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#but earlier today I had one that made me feel really tired and now I have one again

ramblingoak · 1 day

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The Perfect Moment

Mushy May in Lucifer's Hollow: Day 14 - Doing Each Others' Makeup

Mist x Aurora (using a bonus prompt today and kind of playing with it a bit)

This fic is set in an alternate universe in a town called Lucifer's Hollow. It's sort of like a Satanic version of a Hallmark town. For Mushy May I'll be using the prompts to post little snippets of life for the humans and ghouls that live there 💙 Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together!

~ In Lucifer's Hollow Mist owns an antique store called The Reliquary and Aurora owns Little Sunshine Tattoos ~

Warnings: mentions of a tattoo needle otherwise just very sappy, sfw, 670 words (thank you to @ghuleh-recs for the dividers!)

“You need to hold still unless you want me to mess up.”

“I am holding still.” Mist ignored Aurora’s look, taking a deep breath and trying to relax again. It wasn’t that the needle hurt, it just felt…weird. The buzzing sound was almost worse but Aurora had put some music on that was helping her tune it out. “How does it look?”

“Hideous.”

Alright she deserved that. She resolved to stay quiet and let Aurora work. The ghoulette had been fretting over the design of the tattoo for weeks now. Sometimes even going over to Mountain’s to get Rain’s opinion. Mist had seen dozens of different variations of it, each one more beautiful than the next. She had started to feel bad about asking Aurora since it was obvious her girlfriend was stressing over the whole thing but to Mist there was no one else she’d rather have design it.

And obviously no one else she’d rather have tattoo it.

“Thank you.” Mist glanced over when the buzzing stopped, her eyes immediately meeting those of Aurora’s. “I’m glad you’re doing it.”

“Baby, I’m honored you asked me.” Aurora grabbed a rag and wiped away some excess ink. “And the design you wanted it’s…well…”

“It’s what? I thought you liked the idea.”

“I do! Mist, I love it. It's…well it’s us.” The ghoulette sniffled a bit and Mist felt her own eyes watering slightly. “I love you so much.”

She knew she wasn’t supposed to move but nothing was going to stop her from kissing Aurora at that moment. The ghoulette’s lips were soft like always, a hint of coffee still clinging to them from earlier. It was chaste at first but like usual it didn’t take long for the kiss to deepen, for their mouths to open and their tongues to tangle together. Mist pulled away after a moment and cupped Aurora’s cheek, swiping at the few tears that had escaped with her fingers.

“You’re such a sap.” She yelped when Aurora playfully nipped at her thumb. “But I love you too.”

“I’m never going to get tired of you saying that.”

“Me calling you a sap or saying I love you?”

“Hmm, probably both.” Mist grinned as she settled back in the chair, placing her arm back where it had been resting before. “I’m almost done. Just going to add some color to the water.”

“Take your time.”

When Aurora started the tattoo gun up again Mist looked down at her lap, focusing on the silver ring the ghoulette had given her not too long ago. There was a single pink stone on the band, the same shade of pink as Aurora’s eyes. She still couldn’t believe it, her and Aurora were now engaged. They had gone and picked out a matching ring for Aurora too, but her stone was the same shade of blue as Mist’s eyes.

It was a moment she was never going to forget. They had trekked out into the woods a bit, heading towards the pond that was close to Mountain’s farmhouse. The whole town was awake and watching the skies, waiting for the aurora borealis to appear. It was an occurrence so rare that a big event had been made of it. People were camped out in their yards or in the various parks around town.

But Aurora had wanted to be away from everyone, claiming that she just wanted to have a nice private picnic together. It didn’t really matter to Mist, there wasn’t much Aurora could ask her to do that she’d say no to. Besides, a picnic next to the water with the aurora borealis above their heads? It was the perfect moment, a moment Mist would never forget for as long as she lived.

And it was a moment she had decided to memorialize with a tattoo. One that combined her favorite spot in town with her favorite moment of her life. One created by her favorite person too. Satanas, they were both sappy and gross.

Mist wouldn’t have it any other way.

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

More snippets from this verse are on my masterlist under "Ongoing Series"!

Other Mushy May days: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15

#mist x aurora #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfic #mushy may 2024 #tales from lucifer's hollow #oakie's writing #nameless ghoulettes

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pepsiboyy · 24 days

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BELLYACHE.

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader summary: where reader comes home after a long day with a stomach ache to her loving boyfriend :p warnings: established relationship, use of y/n lol, FLUFFF!!!!!!!!!!!, cursing a/n: hi idk i thought of this and wrote it in like 20 min and u guys are BOMBING cruise control so YAYYY i hope it is freaking awesome love u all <33

your breath was shaky and your eyes were lidded as you searched for your keys in all of your pockets. the fresh love hoodie that draped over your body was the only thing keeping you at a decent body temperature as you stood outside the triplets' home, a hand clutching your stomach. it had been aching since earlier today, and you couldn't help but assume it was just your cramps.

"fuckin, where is it."

your eyes scanned your backpack, now, for the spare.

"there you are."

you quickly grab the key and open the front door with it, letting out a deep sigh of relief as you let yourself in and shut the door quickly, yet quietly behind you.

after a long day of nonstop work and being on your feet, you were just ready to lay down with your boyfriend. tomorrow was your first day off in about a week now. your body couldn't take anymore, especially not the nonstop stabbing pains that no amount of painkiller seemed to kill.

with a deep sigh, you set your things down at the kitchen table and moved to grab a soda in the fridge. you took two pepsis from their box and shut the fridge, smiling softly to yourself at the thought of your boyfriend's expression when receiving a pepsi from you.

finally, a moment to yourself and your boyfriend where you two can relax and not worry about you having work the next morning. relax and just have your boy to yourself, relax and just-

thud.

your eyes widened and your body froze its movements as one of the pepsis rolled down the stairs and cracked open, exploding all over the floor and against the cabinets.

footsteps came rushing up the stairs, and you turned your head to see your boyfriend, chris, hair disheveled like he had just awoken from the best sleep of his life.

"y/n? are you okay?"

you set the other pepsi down and let your arms fall to your sides, tears running down your cheeks.

"hey hey hey," chris quickly made his way over and, careful not to step in the soda on the floor, stood in front of you and cradled your face in his hands. "what's wrong my love? it's just a pepsi, and-"

"it was the last one." you mumbled before burying your face into your hands.

"it's okay, really, you can have this one," he held up the pepsi that you had set on the counter. "or we can share it," he chuckled, knowing you would offer.

you let out a deep sigh and shook your head, looking at chris for a moment before looking away. "i just want to be with you. i'm tired of being on my feet, i'm sick of work, i'm sick of people, my stomach is killing me and it won't stop," you sniffled, looking up at him.

chris nodded as he listened closely before coming forward and setting a hand against your cheek. he gently kissed your forehead and wiped your tears with his thumbs. "go get changed into something comfortable, i will clean this up." he whispered softly, smiling reassuringly at you.

with a soft nod, you collected your things, including the stray pepsi and made your way down the stairs and into chris's room.

you let out a deep sigh as you took in the scent of his room, almost immediately feeling comfort. you set your backpack down by his desk and began changing into some pajamas you had laying around in chris's room. you pulled the hoodie back over you and shifted to carefully lay against chris's bed, your mind and body finding comfort in his sheets while trying to ignore the undying pain in your stomach.

your eyes almost immediately began to close.

"how you feelin?"

you lifted your head to see chris, smiling softly when noticing the cup of chamomile tea and some painkillers. he shut the door behind him with his foot and made his way over to the bedside table, setting them down by you.

"'m okay." you mumbled as you smiled brightly at him.

god, you loved him so much. it's the little things. really.

chris nodded as he shifted to lay beside you, humming to himself in the process.

you took a sip of the tea he made for you, humming at the taste and setting it down. "thank you for the tea, really."

chris nodded as he shifted to lay down, his head in the crook of your neck now as he gently pulled you against him by your waist.

his hand moved to gently tuck under your fresh love hoodie and gently graze your stomach, his hand resting there softly.

your face felt hot. every time chris got remotely close to you, it did. this kid gave you butterflies at any given moment.

"is this okay?"

chris's voice ripped you from your thoughts as you nodded and closed your eyes, moving to gently wrap your arms around his shoulders, one of your hands moving to gently bury into his hair.

chris hummed as he felt your touch, his eyes closing as he allowed his thumb to graze back and forth on your skin softly.

"get some sleep alright?" chris mumbled softly, his voice groggy.

you smile softly and nodded, as you knew chris was already beginning to trail off.

"i love you so much," you whispered, eyes closing as you leaned down to gently kiss the top of his head, before you allowed your head to fall back and and your mind slowly drift to asleep.

"i love you too, y/n."

chris fell asleep, his hand never removing itself from your stomach and/or waist and his breath soft against your chest.

and when you woke up, your bellyache was gone.

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fluff #chris x reader #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo smut #fluff

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personasintro · 8 months

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Mutual Help | #02

𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: @kithtaehyung

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.9k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢

"Can you pretend to be my girlfriend?"

"What?" you breathe out, shaking your head as if to make sure you've heard him correctly. "Pretend to be your girlfriend? Are you kidding?"

But he doesn't look as if he's kidding. He's looking at you with hopeless eyes, or maybe it's just an alcohol in his system that makes him look like a lost puppy.

"No," he gulps, slowly shaking his head. "If Kiko sees me with another woman, maybe she'll want me back. She told me she loves me. Maybe she'll want me back once she sees me with someone else."

"You realize how ridiculous and stupid that idea is? You're an adult, Jungkook. That's just stupid." you tell him, feeling yourself getting tired but you don't allow yourself to close your eyes. You'd doze off right away.

"I know, it's pathetic. But it's the only idea and a hope I have left."

"Kook, that's not healthy. What if she doesn't care?" you ask him carefully, eyeing his slumped figure.

"Then I'll have to move on." he answers, dryly gulping as if he's repulsed by that idea.

"I don't know, Kook. I don't think it's a good idea. You're not some teenager who needs to prove something to her. If she let you go, then it's on her. She was stupid enough to do that."

And he stays quiet, leaning his back against the headrest as he allows his eyes to rest. Without thinking anything further, you do the same thing. There's a comfortable silence in the room and for a moment, you think he's asleep. But before you can allow yourself to drift next to him on his couch, his raspy yet soft voice booms between the walls.

"Did you really bring me banana milk?"

A wide smile spreads on your lips as you nod, before you realize he can't see you. "Yes." you answer him, not moving an inch knowing he's going to beg in a second.

"Can you give it to me?" he asks quietly, almost as if ashamed that what he really asks for right now is a stupid banana milk.

"I thought you're not a fucking kid." you quote his words while teasing him. You knew he couldn't resist.

"Y/N," he growls, not pleased by your teasing but you're already standing up and turning the lamp on before you go to rummage through your bag, until two small bottles of banana milk are in your hands.

You can barely hand it to him before he's already grabbing the bottles, placing them into his lap as he opens one of them. He happily drinks it, smacking his lips once he gets the first taste. You can't help but snort at the sight in front of you.

"I've missed you." he blurts out, eyes widening as he waits for your reaction. He hastily looks at you, noticing your amused gaze before you smile at him.

"I've missed you too." you admit, knowing how genuine your words are.

Jungkook seems to be relieved that you've missed him too, which makes him feel even worse for acting like an asshole earlier today. It was embarrassing enough that Jimin and Taehyung had to see him in that kind of state – depressed and distant.

"I'm sorry for acting like an asshole earlier," he admits, "And I'm glad Jimin called you. God, those two are awful at making people feel better."

You can't help but laugh at that, remembering their distressed faces and Taehyung's desperate need to pour alcohol into depressed Jungkook. If the situation wasn't so serious, you'd laugh straight away then.

"Nah, it's okay. We all have our bad days and your reason was quite valid. Remember when I threw a remote at you? I don't think you were worse today."

"How can I forget? You got your period and I made a single joke thinking you'll find it funny. Who knew you'd throw a remote at me."

You can't remember what the joke was, but you were so annoyed with him that you grabbed the first thing and threw it at him – which happened to be your TV remote. It was back in the day when you both spent almost every day together. It's really been awhile since the two of you just sat and talked. And it seems like Jungkook thinks the same thing.

"Fuck, I feel like the worst best friend." he speaks up, throwing his head back before he shakes off his bangs out of his eyes.

"You were in a relationship, Jungkook. It was bound to happen." you tell him, shrugging your shoulders. Some part of you wished you'd hang out together all the time, like the old times. But it was impossible. And selfish of you to even wish that.

"Yeah, but when you were dating Haechan, we still used to hang out together more often. I completely blew you off."

Haechan.

Your first boyfriend of five months, someone you've lost your virginity to. He was a sweet guy that made your heart flutter, and your naive young you thought he's the one. But he wasn't. Just because he made your heart flutter, it didn't mean much. Two months after you guys slept together, you both broke up with each other. It was mutual and the two of you remained friends. Not close though. You don't text each other or anything like that, but you still check out his Instagram profile just from pure curiosity. You'll always share something together, even though it wasn't anything romantic – at least not the way you've always imagined.

Maybe that's why it was easy to spend your free time with Jungkook as well. Rather than being with your boyfriend, you spend your time with your best friend. Even the sex was completely unadventurous and it felt like something you did just to release your sexual frustration.

"What if he agreed to break up with me because I didn't satisfy him enough?" you ask with widened eyes, thinking about all the times you had sex with him. It wasn't that many, but still.

"Oh, come on. That's not true." Jungkook snickers.

"You don't know that!" you frown, deeply in thought. "I've never had anyone else before him and our sex was boring. I wanted to spice it up but he'd just straight up say 'no'."

"From what I'm hearing, it looks like he was the one who wasn't satisfying you enough," he raises his brow, causing you to pucker your lips in thought. "No woman should ever feel like sex with her partner is boring. It's about communication."

You kind of hate how right his words are. He makes it sound so easy, but even though your relationship with Haechan ended after a few months, it wasn't just about sex.

"Sex wasn't the most important thing in our relationship, Kook. There were other factors that caused our break up. For example, our feelings."

"It might not be the most important thing, but it's important. All those things like sex, communication and feelings are a part of a great functioning relationship."

He's right. Maybe that's why your relationship with Haechan didn't work. It lacked all of those things, maybe not entirely but still enough for you to know that it'd never work out. You wanted it though, so much. There were days when you thought he's the one. But you were young and naive, you know that now.

"Look at me," Jungkook scoffs, shaking his head at himself. "Talking like some professional when my own relationship got fucked up."

There are no right words that you could possibly say to him. No matter what reason Kiko had to break up with him, you're sure it's not Jungkook's fault. He gave her everything, all of himself. If you think about it in a poetic way, he handed his own heart to her, gifting it to her and she took it and broke it.

"Maybe our sex wasn't great, but at least I got someone to have sex with. Maybe I should find someone." you ignore his previous words, knowing talking about it would hurt him even more.

"Like a boyfriend?" he asks, taking a sip of his banana milk as he stares at you in surprise.

"Well, I meant like a fuck buddy, y'know..." you trail off.

You haven't talked about this with anyone and it's just something that recently occurred to you. You're not that type to even think something like that. But you're twenty-two and even though you haven't met anyone interesting, you could still spice up your sex life. You're a woman with desires and urges. There is so little you can do all by yourself.

"What?" he mutters, looking confused as hell. "But you always wanted--I'm sorry I'm just shocked. I never thought you'd ever think about having a fuck buddy."

You can't be surprised by the confusion that's laced in his voice and visible on his face. You've always talked about how you want to have a normal relationship. You're pretty sure you've mentioned, that one time when you both got drunk, you can't imagine having a fuck buddy.

"I know," you mutter before frowning. "But for fuck sake, Kook. I'm twenty-two with almost no sex experiences. I'm really grateful for my relationship with Haechan, but even though the sex was boring, it was still some kind of experience. You know what I mean?"

From desperation to faint mumble, you lick your lips as you keep frowning at empty beer bottles.

Being open with Jungkook is no shock, he's probably the only person you can talk to about everything and he won't judge you. It's easy to talk to him. Yet, you know you're being this honest saying out your thoughts, with the small help of alcohol. As much as you wanted to distract him, you've never planned to talk to him about your sex life.

"I can help." he speaks up, eyes staring at the television screen.

Your head snaps towards him, mouth opening as you stare at your best friend and pure shock. Did you hear him right? "Help? How?"

He visibly gulps, slowly turning his head to you. "With your sex experiences. I can help you."

Is he for real?

"Y-you want to help me, do you mean like us having sex?"

You can hear your heart beating in your ear drums, echoing loudly as you keep staring at the man in front of you. He's joking. He must be. Oh god, if you misread the situation you're going to bury yourself and never come out.

"Yeah," he says slowly, dragging that one single word out of his mouth. "Well, we don't have to have sex. There are other ways we could try to help with your sex life."

There are no words coming out of your mouth. Your whole body freezes as you let his words echo in your head for quite some time. Jungkook, your best friend, just proposed to help you with your secret desires. That sounds insane. What the hell goes through his head? You've got an idea.

"Do you think I'm that desperate?" you frown, meeting his widened gaze. "I won't use you just for my stupid desires. What about you, huh? You're in love with Kiko. Wouldn't that be weird? We're best friends."

He's not overwhelmed by your outburst, noting your every question that spilled out of your mouth in a flashlight.

"No, I don't think you're desperate. I was the one who proposed it. And yes, I'm in love with Kiko but, we're not in a relationship and I'm a man with needs. Do you think me beating my meat every time I'm in a shower is somehow pleasurable? Nope."

"Okay, too much information," you scrunch your nose at the mention of his masturbating and talking about it so casually. You wouldn't be so against it, if it weren't for the current situation and the image of the two of you having sex. "You didn't answer the best friend part."

"What's there to answer? We're best friends and if we both agree that's what we want, I don't see a problem here. But of course, it was just an idea. We don't have to do anything, if you're uncomfortable with this. I'm sorry if I made things weird right now, it wasn't my intention."

You see regret flash inside of his eyes, looking away for a moment before his soft brown eyes are set on you again. The weird thing is, that you don't feel uncomfortable nor weird at his proposed idea. It's unusual, yes, but your friendship with him was always super close. You used to sleep in the same bed and there were times when he was showering, while you were brushing your teeth. Of course, you haven't seen him naked during those times, even though there is one time he accidentally flashed you with his dick. Maybe this is just another way to cope with his feelings.

"But-- do you even find me attractive?"

Kiko is taller, slimmer yet with wide hips and perky ass. A woman who takes care of herself, yet she still looks naturally beautiful. And then there's you. You don't think of yourself as being ugly. But when you think about all those times Jungkook saw you in your natural habitat. Wasted, mascara running down your cheeks, every morning you woke up with frizzy hair and puffy eyes – there are so many times when he probably thought you looked like a mess. You never cared but for some reason, you feel embarrassed remembering all those times.

"Of course," he blurts out, "You're beautiful."

Your heart flutters, smiling at your best friend as you look down for a moment. "Is this your way of getting me into bed?" you ask him with a puzzled look, seeing the way his eyebrows shoot up before he frowns.

"Of course not. I'm not desperate," he uses your own words against you, looking offended by your question.

But, he's still the one who proposed that idea and you tell him that.

"Maybe I did, but please know that I'm not trying to get you into bed. I would never do that, I would never use you. You're important to me, you know that, right?" he says, his voice turning soft as he pleads with you with his eyes. He needs you to hear it.

And you feel like an asshole assuming such a thing. It was just the first thought you got.

"I know," you whisper, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"Maybe we can help each other, with no hard feelings. We've got only each other."

There are friends like Taehyung and Jimin, who are incredible people that you're lucky to call your friends. But your friendship with Jungkook is special.

"What do you mean?" you poke the inside of your cheek with an intrigued gaze.

Jungkook is handsome, you'd lie if you thought otherwise. He's hot and there are times when he gets you flustered, but you've never seen him anything more. He's your best friend after all, that's where you draw the line. You can't imagine something more happening between you two.

"I'll help you with your sexual desires and you'll pretend to be my girlfriend."

"Jungkook--"

"Just for a month!" he quickly insists, causing you to sigh.

"But aren't you still getting more? You get to fuck me and have me to pretend to be your girlfriend."

It's not fair.

"No, I don't have to fuck you if you don't want me to. I can help you explore everything you failed to do with Haechan, it's totally up to you. We could see where it brings us." he explains.

It's not like you doubt him, you know that he'd never do anything to intentionally hurt you. Jungkook is the most selfless person you know.

"Are you sure this is what you want? Won't it ruin our friendship?" You can't help but ask. It's probably the most valuable reason why you're so unsure about all of this. If there's a chance it'll ruin your friendship with him, you won't do it.

You can't lose him.

"Doesn't best friends who get to fuck each other end up badly? I don't want our friendship to be ruined. What if one of us catches feelings? You never know..." you mumble, feeling him shift as he scoots closer to you.

He cups your face in a gentle manner, tucking a strand of hair behind your hair. "I love you," he tells you, "As a best friend and that won't ever change."

He's staring between your eyes, eyeing you in a silent question causing you to smile at him.

"I love you too, Kook. But I don't think I can fall in love with you, I can't imagine it. You're just... my best friend. It feels right that way." you assure him honestly, seeing him to give you the slightest smile.

"Good," he nods, "But we don't have to do this."

You can see the honesty that glimmers in his eyes, but there's still that hurt hidden behind it. Hurt that Kiro caused. You don't agree with Jungkook's plan of trying to win her back, but if you're going to help him and you've nothing to lose – what's wrong with that?

"I guess I'm just scared that after some time it'll feel like we're using each other." you murmur, dropping your gaze before he gently tucks his finger under your chin as he lifts your head up.

"If you ever feel that way, tell me and we're going to end it. I don't want to hurt you."

Smiling, you nod along his words. "Okay," you murmur, "I guess you're right. It doesn't have to be weird if we're comfortable with this and with each other as well."

He nods, agreeing with you.

"You're right," he licks his bottom lip before saying;

"It's mutual help."

#networkbangtan #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #jungkook fake dating #mutual help

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aestherin · 2 months

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KEEP MY HEART

goal 20: home

“What the —“ Heizou stopped in his tracks as soon as he got to the field. “Did I get the time wrong? I could’ve sworn the practice was scheduled after lunch.”

Underneath the scorching sun, there Scaramouche was, alone on the field. Heizou did not know what he was supposed to feel — should he be proud or worried that his captain was still playing his best despite not having any opponents? Not teammates, even. On that soccer field, it was just Scaramouche, the ball, and the goal.

He merely sighed.

“Scara!” Heizou called out as he approached the bleachers. The indigo-haired boy then looked at his direction, only acknowledging the other’s presence with a nod before going back to his practice. “What a snob,” he teased loudly.

“Shut up, Shikanoin.”

Heizou sat down as he starts preparing to join Scaramouche. While putting on his cleats, he looked around.

One of the large water containers meant for the soccer team was almost empty, even though they just refilled it to the brim after the previous practice they had. Scaramouche’s towel hang on one of the seats’ back, drenched in sweat. His sharp eyes then trailed back to the lone man playing on the field, whose shirt was almost made see-through due to being wet.

‘Just how long has he been playing here?’ Heizou thought.

As soon as the whole team, together with their coach and her good friend (a certain literature professor) arrived, the real practice commenced. From warm-ups, to drills, even up to practice games — Scaramouche was always there with them. He did every single thing that the whole team did. Even though he already did them more than a hundred times earlier.

Around dusk, Scaramouche was already reaching his limit. His plays were still impeccable, but his own body could not keep up with his own thoughts. He was panting, his legs almost at the brink of failing. His whole being was shaky and unstable. And for a second he stayed idle, crouching and bending his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

"Kunikuzushi," Ei called.

"Coach?"

"You're already tired?" The woman's voice was laced with disappointment. Despite being the star player's mother, she could not spare her one and only son the humiliation. Scaramouche scoffed inwardly. 'She really had to tell me off within earshot of the whole team.'

Scaramouche was about to retort, but shortness of breath stopped him. Instead, it was Heizou who responded to their coach. "Coach Ei, maybe we can let him take a break. Scara's been here practicing since early morning. He must be fatig —"

"I'm not tired," Scaramouche stood up straight. "I can still play."

"Dude." Aether uttered.

Ei merely stared at him before blowing the whistle once again, signaling that the game resumed. Scaramouche however, no matter how hard he tried, failed to last much longer.

"Scara!"

"Captain!"

Every player in the field stopped what they were doing as their captain fell and laid flat on the grass. He was desperately gasping for air while clenching the fabric of his shirt tightly. All of them thought it was because he was catching his breath, but no.

It was primarily because he was frustrated with himself.

His mother stood near them, her friend beside her. "You're clearly overfatigued, Kunikuzushi," Ei remarked. "You're still lacking stamina and endurance."

Scaramouche, still on the ground and short of breath, put his right arm over his eyes. He could not help smiling bitterly. 'When did I ever not lack anything, mom?'

He chose not to say anything.

"Practice for today is now over."

Scaramouche's teammates expressed concern for their captain, while his two bestfriends helped him up. The whole time, they could not read the man at all. He did not say anything, nor was his face expressing anything.

All they knew was that he took what his mother said to heart.

Meanwhile, Ei and her friend Yae remained on the soccer grounds. The purple-haired woman was looking after everything, making sure that the team did not forget anything or did not leave a mess. Her friend merely seated on the benches with her legs crossed.

"You know, Ei," Yae said as she was boredly checking her nails. "You're a little too harsh to your boy."

"You know that I have to be."

"Of course, of course. I do remember what happened to your sister, and believe me, I understand where you're coming from. I know you just want to protect your son."

Yae stood up and headed towards her friend. "But you know, the way you are doing it, I don't like your approach."

"I am doing this for his own good," Ei insisted.

"If you say so."

KEEP MY HEART — scara x reader smau

previous . masterlist . next

SUMMARY — you find plenty of guys around you attractive, but there is only one you’re willing to make the first move on: the guy you first saw during your older brother’s soccer game. spoiler: he's a player from your rival university.

TAGLIST I (closed)

@kararisa @krnzysh @syriiina @your-kuya-pogi @xiaosonlybeloved @xiaomainlmao @cindywasneverhere @coquettemaiden @sunsethw4 @lunavixia @calickoh @arealistonao3 @youthingazi @zyilas @mondaymelon @yukiipc @heartswonder @st0pthatsgay @ozzierenato @astreaa-express @shewolfmiko @lovelyycherries @myaaones @countessqin @aloveablechaos @letthewindlead @lunaavity @local-blueberry-boy @luminestars @layla240 @useless-potatho @atlaszi @alatusorrow @lahsram2201 @sakiimeo @user11918163805279 @vqazx @neigesprincess @kunicrush @yoursockstinks @hotgirlshit5 @mikctp @crucnhice @apotatouwu @yuaenri @sammybeefangirls @miko1ly @deffenferofjustice @etherisy @sagegreenthinks

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eddiemunsonw · 2 months

Text

Snow Storm

Steve Harrington x Fem!reader

Summary: You're on a 'date'. Sort of. You're really not feeling it, especially when you realize that the guy has been lying. Steve, witnessing it all during his shift at Family Video, is more than happy to meddle a little.

CW/Disclaimer: Hmmmm things start to get a little heated and sexy but nothing too dramatic. So... idk. Mention of porn?

Author's note: I have a tendency to post fics out of their season, it seems

Words: 3435

Steve’s POV

He watched as your eyes followed the section of horror movies slowly, scanning each title to try and remember if you had seen them before. Next to you, a guy stood impatiently as he eyed the curtain that separated the adult section. Steve watched with interest, as it was all that was currently happening in the store apart from a regular who looked into the slapstick classics on the other side.

“Come on, I just wanna see.”

The guy sighed, nudged you with his arm. You were having none of it and Steve couldn’t help but wear an amused smile. Eventually, when you had picked out two movies, you followed him towards the curtain. Steve, feeling particularly menacing today, quickly left the counter and approached the curtain just in time.

“Hello there! ID’s please.”

He held his hand open and you took it out immediately, showing that you were 23, a year younger than he was. When the guy handed it over with some reluctance, his curiosity piqued.

“Oof, sorry dude, can’t let you in. It’s 21+”

“What? Since when?” the guy responded, but Steve clocked something much more interesting.

“Clark… You said you were 24. Jesus this is why I never wanna say my age first,” you groaned and rolled your eyes. Steve bit down on his lip to stop himself from smiling, but it was too hard not to.

“Damn, why’d you have to lie to the lady? That’s not cool,” Steve added on.

Your POV

“You weren’t supposed to know. Now come on,” Clark mumbled and attempted to pass the curtain but Steve quickly moved in between, the smooth glide of his body grabbing your attention.

“Still a no, Bud.”

You were already tired of his pushy behavior earlier, so while Steve had him occupied, you entered the adult section. You didn’t even want to go in there, but it was better than staying.

“Grab some deepthroating! And some lesbian porn?”

Steve’s POV

Steve shook his head at him as he leaned against the wall right next to the curtain.

“Jesus, dude. Are you trying to make her run away from you even harder?”

“Shut up,” Clark grumbled, side eyeing him with annoyance.

“Hm, no,” Steve said, a small smile on his face. “Not for a pipsqueak like you.”

“Oh fuck off, says the failed jock whose daddy no longer funds him so he has to do a shitty job like this one, the highlight of his day being to be a total asshole to a guy trying to have sex with a girl.”

Steve stared ahead of him, taking a deep inhale before replying.

“Yeah. Sure. That’s a neat description of you and me both. Emphasis on the trying.”

“The day’s not over yet.”

“Oh but it is, pipsqueak. Cause you’re gonna turn around and leave now.”

They looked at each other, eyes dark and challenging. Steve wasn’t sure what came over him. He just knew that he needed to do you the favor of getting rid of him.

“The hell I am,” Clark bristled.

Steve chuckled darkly. Woah, when did he become this super villain huh? Hmm. Interesting.

“Oh you are. She wants you gone and so do I.”

“You don’t know shit about what she wants.”

“Let me go ask,” Steve said as his hand lazily slid the curtain aside. “What’s her name again?” he asked, pretending like he hadn’t checked your name on your ID. He didn’t wait for his answer and walked behind the curtain despite his protests. This, however, made him miss out on the emergency alert on the radio.

“We interrupt your favorite tunes for an important message. The blizzard is getting worse. If you haven’t yet, go home. Chances are you won’t be able to if you wait much longer.”

Clark, however, did. Besides, he wasn’t that much of an idiot. He knew he had lost his chances with you the moment he tried to get you to grab his favorite porn videos. Whatever.

Your POV

“So… see anything you like?”

His voice startled you, but at the same time it was met with relief from your end that it wasn’t Clark. Steve slowly walked closer and quickly noticed you didn’t seem interested in any of it in the slightest and chuckled.

“Or are you just planning to stay here forever until he leaves?”

You shrugged.

“Something like that. Also, you don’t just ask a lady about her favorite porn, Harrington.”

Delighted by your response, he cocked his hip against the wall as he crossed his arms with a grin.

“I mean… we both already know Clark’s…” Steve said jokingly, earning a smile from you.

“All men are the same,” you sighed. Steve pouted and scanned the titles for something interesting.

“You say that now but… wait until you find out that my favorite is actually… Granny getting a— nope, nope, forget I started that sentence,” Steve said quickly as he put back the tape he just had in his hands.

“All the grannies over the world are crying right now,” you said sadly, a smile on your lips.

“Too bad, I’ve set my eye on girls who actually are the age they say they are.”

“I’ll admit that’s the most interesting belated opening line I’ve ever heard,” you said dryly.

“As long as it catches your intrigue, I’m satisfied,” Steve said with a playful, cocky grin.

You grabbed a tape and smirked, holding it out for him.

“So I’m guessing you don’t need yourself a… Satisfyer 2.0, then?” You asked, holding up the tape which had sensual “instructions” for a vibrator.

Steve laughed and shook his head.

“These satisfy just fine,” Steve said, holding up his hands. Your mind drifted off to what he could do with those big hands. Not just to himself but to—

“… left?”

Steve had apparently just asked you a question.

“Huh?”

He smirked and nodded towards the curtain.

“I think he left. Just heard the bell above the door.”

“Maybe someone came in though…” you wondered out loud.

“Maybe. I’ll go check.” He spun on his heel and approached the curtain when—

“Wait—” It was out before you knew it. Steve halted, turned back around and looked at you patiently.

“Yeah?”

“If he is in fact not gone, can you… get rid of him somehow? I normally wouldn’t ask but he’s just such a—”

“Dick.”

“Yeah…” You smiled a small smile and watched as he approached you again. His eyes were on you, taking in even the smallest changes in your expression.

“So is he like… your boyfriend?” Steve asked softly. “Or uh, was?”

You chuckled and shook your head.

“Nah, this was the second date which I had reluctantly agreed to.”

“Why’d you say yes?” Steve asked curiously. He followed your movement as you skimmed some more tapes and smiled at the playfully quipped corner of your mouth. “I mean, it didn’t look like you wanted to be here.”

“I didn’t. I just… I kind of never said yes but he just showed up on my doorstep and then I felt too bad to not go with him, so… yeah. Didn’t know he had plans to rent some porn and spend the second date in his bedroom or whatever.”

Steve crossed his arms and nodded thoughtfully.

“Hmmh… yeah that sucks. Well, I’ll make sure there won’t be a next time,” he said as he shortly winked at you and once again turned on his heel, this time actually continuing his walk through the curtain. He was out there for a few minutes when he turned back with a frown.

“Uh… Y/N? We’ve got a little… hiccup.”

You approached him with a frown of your own and followed him to the front, unsure what to expect. What you certainly didn’t expect, was to see a snow storm going on outside.

“Apparently there’s a code red. Just heard a repeat of it on the radio but it keeps breaking up. They urge everyone to stay inside until it’s over.”

Steve stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared ahead. It was the worst storm he had ever witnessed and the fact that nothing had seemed to be going on apart from some gentle snowfall surprised him.

“Stay… here?” you asked eventually.

“I mean, yeah? You can’t drive in this weather, it’s too dangerous. So is walking. So…”

“But I can’t just…”

“Hey, I don’t bite,” Steve said softly, nudging your arm with his own. “Besides, Clark seems to have left after all. Maybe he heard the warning and decided to bolt? If so, very nice to let us know as well but I will say that I wasn’t nice to him, so…”

You smirked.

“What did you say to him?”

“Nothing, nothing. I mean, genuinely, I didn’t say much. Just that he had to fuck off, using different wording. He didn’t seem all that ready to leave when I went to look for you though.”

“Oh well, good riddance.”

“Agreed.”

Steve walked forward and locked the door, putting the closed sign up front just in case.

“Let’s go to the back, it’s warmer there. And there’s a coffee machine.”

And so your “Stuck at Family Video with heartthrob Steve Harrington” began.

Once you were settled around the table in the break room, Steve gave you an odd glance. It was hard to figure out what he meant by it, although his frown disappeared the moment he got up from his chair.

“Coffee? Tea? I think we even got a few of those instant hot choc packages,” he offered, his back already turned to you as he searched the cabinets.

“Oh, hot chocolate sounds nice actually. Is it just me or is it… still kinda cold, even here?” you asked hesitantly. Steve nodded ruefully and grabbed two mugs from the cabinet he was currently facing.

“Ah, yeah… it looks like the heating is struggling again. I could kick it to see if it helps but… chances are it’ll get worse.”

“How could it get worse?”

Steve shrugged.

“Beats me, but I’m speaking from experience. Sometimes it does the trick and other times it really, really doesn’t.”

“Let’s not risk it then. At least we have a warm drink, right?”

Steve nodded and grabbed the kettle. You watched him busy himself with putting it on, emptying the hot chocolate powder and grabbing two spoons. He was humming along softly to whichever song he seemed to have stuck in his head and shot you a smile when he caught you looking.

“So what do you usually—”

Suddenly, the room turned pitch dark. You heard Steve swear softly when he shuffled back towards the table and bumped into a chair.

“Uh… okay. That’s… kind of a problem,” he mumbled as he managed to sit back down. “No hot choc I guess, sorry. No… heating either. Maybe we should check how the weather’s doing?” he opted.

“Yeah, sure.”

There was a small strip of light seeping in from the doorway, slowly turning brighter as you adjusted to your surroundings again. Warm fingers teased your arm before your wrist was grabbed and Steve helped you up. As he opened the door, the brightness of the snow outside was almost blinding. The thin windows made it a lot colder at the front, making you shiver as you watched the outside. It wasn’t just snow anymore, as heavy hail rained down, large enough to leave dents into cars. Steve groaned and let go of your wrist.

“Let me check if I can get the power back on,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you. He grabbed a flashlight from below the counter and went to the back again. After a few minutes, he returned, looking apologetic.

“Sorry, nothing. I guess it’s my fault you’re stuck here, huh?” he sighed. “If I hadn’t bothered Clark as much you’d be on your way already. Or if I just… I don’t know. Sorry, I guess.”

“It’s not your fault the weather decided to fuck us over, Steve,” you said with a soft smile which he returned with some hesitance. “What do you usually do for fun around here?”

Steve gave you a wry smile.

“Watch movies?”

“Ah, yeah.”

There was a short silence until Steve clapped in his hands and rubbed them together. “I’ve got this huge blanket in the back, brought it here once because Rob, Robin, my colleague, gets very cold easily so sometimes we’d just huddle under the blanket during breaks and stuff. I think we might as well sit out here, at least it’s light… for now.”

You nodded, smiling as you thought of Robin Buckley. You knew her of course. Not super well, but well enough to know she was nice.

“Yeah, it’s already getting dark, huh? A blanket sounds good though.”

Steve nodded and once again disappeared for a short moment, until he returned with a bright blue blanket, which he partially draped on the floor in front of the counter before he motioned for you to sit down and wrapped it around your shoulders. He joined you after grabbing you both some water and put the other end around his shoulders once he settled down.

“How’s this?”

You were really trying not to let it get to you that you were cozying up to Steve right now. Heat was radiating off of him and it made you wonder if he was actually cold, or if he was basically doing the whole “it’s better to stick together for body warmth” kind of thing. With the addition of clothes, of course.

“It’s nice. Better than without for sure,” you told him softly. Steve’s shoulder brushed yours and soon enough you felt the pressure build up until he was actually resting against you. Not in an uncomfortable way at all. It was really… nice, actually.

“Your parents? Do you think they’ll worry?”

“Ah, no. My mom’s visiting my grandma in another state actually and my dad’s no longer around, so. Doubt he can worry,” you joked lightly. “What about yours?”

Steve snorted, then realized it probably wasn’t all that funny and shrugged.

“Dunno, they’re somewhere in Europe now, I think? So no.”

Another silence. It was by that point that you remembered how little you actually knew about Steve Harrington. Sure, he had been popular in school for some time, and then he wasn’t, and then he graduated. But you had never really talked to him other than giving him a pen or two in English class. You were from different social ladders, really. Although, right now you felt quite equal to him, somehow. Which felt weird, considering he looked like a freshly cut out of a painting model and you were… you. Mr handsome decided to steal you away from your brain, which honestly, was a good thing.

“Hey, wanna play a game?” he asked, peering into your eyes as he leaned forward a little. You watched him with newfound curiosity.

“What kind of game?”

“I spy with my little eye.”

“Isn’t that just called “I spy”?” you wondered aloud.

“Dunno. So. Yes?”

“What else is there, right?”

Steve grinned and rested his head against the counter.

“That’s right. Okay. I spy with my little eye… something green.”

“That tape,” you said as you pointed. Steve leaned into your space, following your hand.

“Which one?”

“The green one.”

“There are maaaany green ones.”

“The green one with… Fuck I can’t read,” you sighed as you tried to squint. Steve laughed warmly, which you could feel the tremble of against your shoulder. “Okay so. The sci-fi shelf, yes? Fifth on the second row.”

“Aaaah, I see it now. Nope!”

“You knew that wasn’t it from the start.”

“I had to make sure.”

“Mhm, sure.”

Steve grinned and nudged you with his shoulder before tapping your thigh with his hand.

“Your turn, your turn!”

He left his hand on your thigh. Oh shit. Yeah, you were totally normal about that. You could still think. You could definitely still find some kind of object that you could use—

“Wait, I didn’t even guess it, how is it my turn?!” you questioned. Steve, who had been looking at… somewhere that wasn’t your eyes, quickly lifted his eyes to meet yours and grinned.

“Right. Guess!” “Your vest?”

“You are absolutely right. See? Your turn.”

“It wasn’t— okay. Hm… I spy with my little eye… something red.”

“Your cheeks.”

“Shut up, my cheeks aren’t red.”

“They are a little.”

“If you keep talking about it, yes, they will turn red.”

“Oh? Is that so?”

Once again Steve leaned forward to look you straight in the eye, this time lifting a hand to cup your cheek gently. “Hm, they’re a little pink at the very least.”

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks and took his hand off your cheek as you looked away. Steve chuckled softly and turned his hand around so he could grab yours.

“Fine, then… the bike outside?”

“Nope.”

“Damn, I thought that was it for sure. That red blob of paint that Keith never managed to get off the ceiling?”

“That’s it!”

Steve grinned at you and gave your hand a squeeze. For a moment you had forgotten about his hand, too drunk on his animated face. Fuck.

“I spy with my little eye…” Steve turned his head to look at you and smiled. “Something pretty.”

“What?”

“Purple! Purple.”

“My shirt.”

“So clever.”

It was getting darker rapidly and soon enough, even your little game became harder to play. You did some other ones, word games, guessing games, whatever you could think of. The blanket was wrapped closer around you both now, as the store became colder without the heating. You sat hip to hip, your arms a little awkward sometimes although neither of you really minded.

“Would you have stayed here if I hadn’t been around?” you asked softly.

“Hmm, nah, I don’t think so.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t really care if— I mean, I’d only be risking myself in that case.”

“That’s a bad reason. You’re just as important.”

“Am I?” Steve asked, and for some reason you felt like he needed an honest answer.

“Yeah, you are, Steve.”

“Hm…” A beat of silence. “I spy with my little eye… someone pretty.”

“You can’t even see.”

“I’ve memorized her by now.”

“Is it the blonde babe cardboard cutout?”

Steve, not expecting that answer at all, burst out laughing.

“Fuck, no,” a giggle, “it wasn’t.”

“Oh… hm. What about that girl from the ring? Samara?”

“Shush.”

“Or the woman from that movie where—” “Ssshh.”

You felt his hand cup your cheek and it was as if your heart was gonna jump out of your chest at any moment now. His breath tickled your cheek, warm and comfortable against your cold nose. Your lips parted on their own, eyes closing even though there was only an outline of his face to see.

“You sure it’s not the blond babe?” you murmured teasingly.

Steve giggled softly and shook his head, causing the stray strands of his hair to tickle you a little.

“Positive.”

A faint sound of lips being licked, and then his lips brushed against yours. Soft and pliable, eager to taste yours. He hummed softly, pleased, as he pulled you closer. You were easily pulled into his lap as his tongue teased your bottom lip for access. Hands smoothed up and down your waist, the blanket forgotten as your kiss provided enough heat between the two of you. It was silent, save from the gasps and soft, pleasant hums leaving you both. He gently moved his hips while simultaneously guiding yours, a gentle moan leaving him as he found a rhythm. His lips found your neck and your hand made its way into his hair to have something to grasp onto. One hand found the hem of your shirt and he was about to lift it up when—

Brightness. Light. The electricity was back on. Meaning… everyone outside could see you. If there had been anyone, that is. Still, it broke the moment instantly as Steve dropped his hand to your thigh and looked up at you.

“Shit,” he murmured, a lopsided grin on his face. “They really know how to spoil the fun today, huh?”

You smiled down at him and turned around to look outside, one hand resting on his chest for balance.

“Hm… I don’t know. It seems safe to go back home.”

Steve dug his fingers into your hips with eagerness before leaving a soft kiss on your lips.

“Your place or mine?”

end.

If you enjoyed reading this, please know that comments and reblogs are highly appreciated :) Likes are lovely but sadly do nothing to spread the fics around! Help your favorite writers (not saying me - in general) out like that so you can continue to enjoy consuming the free work they put out, it's a win-win.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fanfics #joe keery #i'm so great at promoting my fics with a cool description #not

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primofate · 2 years

Text

You faint during an argument/disagreement [Genshin Impact] (Part 1)

Summary: You’ve been feeling under the weather for the whole day, you just didn’t bother to tell him nor anyone, thinking that the headache would go away. He doesn’t notice at all due to him getting caught up with some work, or in general just having a bad day himself.

Notes and credits: Wholly inspired by minejiro.tumblr.com (They’re inactive now, according to the blog, but they wrote a Haikyuu one a while ago and I loved their rendition of it so much that I just had to bring it over to Genshin. I asked them for permission a while ago and they agreed :D)

Characters: Tartaglia, Diluc, Zhongli, gn!reader

Warnings: might have some harsh words/arguments, fainting spells, feeling unwell, panic attacks/hyperventilating maybe, not proofread, you and the genshin character live together, I seriously had trouble writing about what you might argue about with Diluc and Zhongli because these two are usually calm and collected. Not really a disagreement on Zhongli’s part, maybe just a misunderstanding. zhongli changes your clothes but its completely innocent.

Tartaglia

Could have a short-temper, depending on how his day has gone.

He adores you and thinks you’re his whole world but he does get some stressors once in a while, mainly because he works in the Fatui

Could easily overlook things when he has a lot of things on his mind

He comes home today tired and rather annoyed. Something about Dottore not taking his suggestions seriously, and Pierro never taking his side. It must be one of those Harbinger meetings again. He always seemed to be in a sour mood after one.

He hangs his coat on the hanger by the door, kicking his boots off and wanting nothing more than a hot bath, a quiet dinner and spending some rest and relaxation with you. “Y/N?” he calls through the house and you, half awake on your shared bed, stir a little, pushing yourself up with difficulty.

It feels so hot, despite the cold country you were in. “Tartaglia, welcome home. I’m just in the room,” you call out, stilling to hear his response. Tartaglia thought it was a little weird, cause you would usually come up to greet him when he arrived, but he just guessed that you were busy with something in the room.

“Alright! I’m taking a bath first, love,” he shouts. “Have you eaten?” He asks and you answer after a short pause, mostly because you found it difficult to even concentrate on keeping upright, and you wondered if you could handle preparing dinner today.

“I haven’t, I’ll get it ready when you finish,” Still, maybe you just needed to walk around a little and get some fresh air. So, as he took his time in the bathroom you struggled to make dinner, in the end you only made enough for him, seeing as you didn’t have an appetite today.

“Here you go,” You smile at him as he dries his hair, putting down the meal in front of him. If he wasn’t busy, he actually cooks a lot for you too, it just so happened that it was your turn today.

He blinks when he sees that there’s only one set of food just enough for him. He narrows his eyes, a little disappointed that you didn’t seem to be planning on eating with him. He was looking forward to spending a bit of time with you.

“You’re not eating?” He asks and you shake your head.

“No, I don’t feel like it,” you simply reply and you hear him scoff a little.

“Don’t feel like it? Well, that’s okay. Are you at least going to sit and talk with me while I eat?” He looked as if he wanted to vent about something, but your head was really bothering you now.

“...Actually I was just planning on going to bed early today...” You breathe out, your eyes dart up to the ceiling, it looks to be swaying a little.

“...You know, I wonder why you’re so tired. You had a day off today,” Tartaglia’s voice borders on mocking, as if accusing you of doing nothing all day and yet going to bed earlier than him who was at work till late.

“I’m not feeling well Tartaglia, that’s all,” You quip back with a sigh and move away to get yourself a glass of water. The clink of cutlery against the plate signals to you that he started eating, but not before he mutters a resentful “Suit yourself...”

You ignore him, having no energy at all to argue and bring back the glass of water with you to the room. You left the bedroom door open, just to get a bit of air circulation, but you stop in your tracks when the walls start to turn into squiggles, your perception of reality starts to distort and you try your best to tell yourself the bed is just there, just a few steps away.

A sharp pain attacks your temples and you drop the glass, it shattering on the floor just before you yourself come toppling down on your side, blacked out.

Tartaglia freezes at the sound, he’s midway to taking a bite of the stabbed steak on his fork but he retracts it to call out to you again. “Y/N?” You’ve disappeared into the room already and he can’t see what’s going on, but the sound had alarmed him. He waits a few seconds, before he drops his cutlery and pushes his chair back to stand and check on you.

“Y/N?” He repeats, walking at a leisurely pace over to the room. His mouth falls open at the sight of shattered glass but his throat closes up at your unconscious form. “Y/N?!” He hurries next to you and cradles your upper body in his arms, patting your cheek to get some sort of response from you. “Y/N, hey,” he gently tries to coax you into waking up, but realizes that it’s not working.

Now he’s conscious of the way your face flushes pink, and now it dawns on him that you really weren’t feeling well, your forehead was burning up. He picks you up and sets you down on the bed, calling for a doctor immediately.

“Are they okay?” Tartaglia asks once the doctor was done checking up on you. The doctor shrugs. “Not to worry, it’s just a simple fever. They’ll be fine with some bed rest,” The relief that spreads through his being is unreal. For a moment he thought it was something serious, you’d never fainted before, and he was also just guilty that he didn’t spot it out sooner.

When you woke up he was still awake and sitting on a chair next to you, there’s a damp cloth on your forehead and it takes you a moment to piece together what happened. You sighed and closed your eyes again, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pass out, it was just--” and you started to feel nauseous again.

Tartaglia gave you a stern look. “Don’t apologize for that, stop thinking too much and rest,” You obeyed as he continues. “You could’ve told me earlier that you were feeling unwell,” he rants.

“I DID tell you I was feeling unwell, you were just being snappy today,” you state as a matter of factly. That makes him open his mouth then close it again, defeated by your statement.

“...I know, I’m sorry... That wasn’t...my best moment,” he admits and has a look of regret on his face. You sigh and shake your head a little, used to his tantrums from time to time. He asks you once again, now willing to make up for it and make amends. “Is there anything I can do for you? Do you need anything? You haven’t eaten so I made some food in case you were hungry,”

And there’s the doting Tartaglia that you knew. The one that always listened to your beck and call, he’s like putty in your hands, just melts at the sight of you. “I’m alright honey, I just need some sleep. Come join me? You must be tired as well,”

He sighs again, unsatisfied with how little he has done but relents and leans forward to land a kiss on your forehead. “Alright, but wake me up if you feel worse, got it?”

Diluc

Has deep-set issues, particularly when it came to family.

You’ve always tried to repair his relationship with Kaeya but soon noticed that it probably wasn’t your business, despite Diluc respecting you a lot and putting your opinions in high regard.

He was just a little sensitive when it came to topics like that.

“It was just a suggestion ‘Luc. You don’t have to think too much about it,” Said suggestion was you wanting to spend your birthday with your beloved partner, but also the Knights of Favonius. However, you weren’t really one for eating out or fancy dinners, so you suggested that your birthday lunch could be done in the mansion, essentially suggesting that you wanted to invite them to Diluc’s house.

Maybe you imposed too much, but Diluc’s face fell the moment that suggestion came out into the open. “You say not to think too much about it but this is something that YOU want, it’s your birthday wish, how can I say no?” he counters and you can feel a petty argument coming up.

Your hand absentmindedly massages your forehead as you sit at the long table, eyes closed and focusing on the soothing sensation. “I have other birthday wishes Diluc, and I’m flexible, we don’t have to do something that you don’t want,”

“And like I said, this is the FIRST suggestion you made, which means that you must like this idea the most,” He crosses his arms over his chest, gaze lingering over you, clearly disappointed.

“I didn’t mean for it to come off like that, I promise we don’t have to do this. It’s selfish of me to assume that I can use your house for anything I want anyway,” You attempt to give him a small smile, but he looks to be past being nice.

“I wish you had thought about that before saying anything,” He continues, gaze stern. “Instead of spilling it out and making me feel as if I have no choice in the matter,”

“It.was.a.suggestion.” You say in between grit teeth. This wasn’t helping the intense headache you were having right now.

“Clearly you haven’t been listening at all,” Your eyes snap up to look at Diluc, he had never taken that tone towards you before. He sounded extremely displeased. “If you MADE the suggestion, then it means that it’s something that you WANT. Is this something that’s not clear to you?”

You wince at the tone he takes, somehow a part of you starts to unravel, as if you feel like you don’t know this person in front of you. “Diluc, that’s not--”

“And for someone like me, who only wants the best for you, I have to follow every wish that you desire,” there’s a sarcastic tone to his voice, like the tone he takes towards Kaeya and it somehow bruises you so well.

He starts to look as if he hates you, or was that your imagination? His mouth keeps moving, but none of the words register in your mind. You can’t grasp the fact that Diluc is angry at you. Your usually sweet and subtle Diluc is gone. It suddenly feels like the ground under you is falling apart. You stand up all of a sudden and feel your breath waver.

Diluc cuts his speech off, watching as you anchor yourself to the table with both arms. Your breathing is deep and your hands are trembling. “...Y/N?” You shake your head, unable to answer him because all you can feel is the sense of doom, as if the world was ending. Your peaceful world with Diluc shattered all because of a selfish request you made.

“Y/N,” Diluc stands when he finally realizes somethings wrong, you’re sweating and you’re breathing so heavily, as if you couldn’t catch your breath. He takes you into his arms hoping that it was some form of comfort. “Y/N, deep breaths, you’re fine, love,”

But you go limp in his arms and it takes him a huge amount of self control not to panic himself. He races up the stairs to put you on the bed, opening the windows to give you some air and asking one of the passing by maids to call a doctor.

Sure enough as Diluc describes what happened the doctor confirms that you were probably overwhelmed and panicked, in addition to running a small fever. He feels like trash after that, and almost wants to stab himself for engaging in such petty squabble with you.

When you wake up you hardly remember what happened, until you see Diluc’s concerned face looking at you and you can’t help but wince at the expression you remember on him. You almost can’t bring yourself to look at him and instinctively turn your face away.

That breaks his heart into pieces. “Y/N, I...” he sits at the edge of the bed next to you, carefully placing a hand on your shoulder. “Is it ok if you look at me, love?” He gently requests and you blink, unsure of why you were so deterred by him.

“I don’t mean to look away, it’s just...I don’t want you to hate me,” because that’s the look you remember on his face, like he despised you.

You hear his intake of breath. “Y/N I can never hate you,” he explains. “I...I apologize, I should have dropped the matter and listened to you but I was...I only wanted to have your wishes come true, but I didn’t know how to do that with your request, so I...” he paused a little, and realized that the more he talked the more it sounded stupid. He opts to change his direction. “...I won’t ask for your forgiveness but...please, let me take care of you,”

Diluc had always been sincere with his feelings towards you, and you knew that was hard for him. In some senses you understood where he was coming from, and you also played a part in the little disagreement. You sigh and your eyes easily glide towards him. “...It’s alright ‘Luc, let’s not dwell on it anymore, okay? We can talk about it tomorrow...I’m a little tired right now,”

It seems as if he breathes a sigh of relief at your nickname for him, that brought a little bit of normalcy back into the situation. “Of course,” he agrees and brushes your forehead with his hand. “You’re still running a fever, I’ll wake you up when it’s time to take your medications,”

“You’re not sleeping with me?” You ask and he takes a moment to answer.

“...Not yet, I...I’m not all that tired yet,”

In reality, as you slept peacefully on your shared bed he tenderly looks at you and drowns in his regret, unable to believe that he had pushed you over the edge and thinking over and over again that he doesn’t deserve you in his life, but he will definitely fight to be better and worthy of you.

Zhongli

Rarely gets angry and you rarely have arguments or disagreements with him because he’s always wiling to communicate or see other people’s point of view.

It doesn’t mean that he never gets displeased though, he’s just good at hiding it or concealing it with better sounding words.

Zhongli sometimes likes to make trades with the people of Liyue, mostly for valuable ore, artifacts or keepsakes. When he does this he usually has you to tag along (mostly because he can’t keep track of how much mora he has and relies on you to guide him through that part)

“Ready, darling?” Zhongli asks, his hand placing itself on the small of your back. You’re jolted to attention and you look up at him with a smile.

“Mmhmm, I have our balances and notes ready,” It was like a small hobby of yours and his, collecting treasures and valuable artifacts. It was really mostly his thing, you just loved watching him converse with others and bargain his way through, even though he wasn’t good at it. That’s what you were there for.

Today, however, you’re a little out of it because of a dull pain on the whole front part of your head. It somewhat feels as if you’d been punched in the nose, and the pain was resonating upwards to your forehead. It was a strange feeling, but you pushed through it and thought that it wasn’t a big deal.

Stepping out of your home you instantly realized that this was not going to be a good day. The sun was high in the sky and it was sweltering hot, you were already sweating 5 minutes into walking. Luckily, the man you were trading with opted to meet at a nearby teahouse so you arrived and sat down. The only unfortunate thing was that the seating was outdoors, and so you couldn’t completely escape the heat.

The man greeted the two of you, and invited you to sit. The talks started at once, with Zhongli first relaying a wonderful story about the artifact the man possessed. Frankly you were hardly listening, all you could focus on was how uncomfortable the sweat running down your neck was, for a moment you thought to excuse yourself, but that was strange since you just arrived.

You toughed it out, and tried to keep up with the conversation, opening the notebook on the table as the servers continued to pour tea.

“100,000 mora is not a bad price,” You heard Zhongli state, and that was usually your cue to follow up on your approval or disapproval, but this time, it took you longer than usual to think.

“Ah, um...” You looked at the notes in front of you, you barely wrote anything and the letters were starting to look a little blurred. “A 100,000 mora is fine indeed, but since it’s a little aged and older now, it wouldn’t be impossible to lower the price down to 80,000, right, good sir?” You forced a smile.

Zhongli has a good eye, and observes that you’re rather out of your element today, though he’s unsure what the problem was, so he continues the talk further.

Somewhere down the conversation the two of them look at you, and you blink back at them. There are questioning gazes on their faces and you realize that they had asked you a question.

“Oh...I...apologize, could you repeat that? I must have missed the question,” The man chuckles and talks, but you could only see his mouth moving and there was no sound except the ringing in your ears. The heat was getting to you.

“...Y/N...Y/N,” It was Zhongli’s voice that snaps you out of your stupor, he’s looking at you with concealed worry, but you also see a hint of disappointment there. “...Perhaps it’d be better if you went home first, I’ll put you up to speed on my and the good sir’s conversation later on,” It sounded as if he was trying to get rid of you, but he was merely worried about your lack of concentration today.

“...Yeah, alright,” You agree with a weak smile and bow towards the two of them, gathering your notes and balances when Zhongli stops you. “Leave those, I’ll handle them,” he says it rather curtly, but you nod your head and turn to leave, feeling a little useless.

You took two steps and feel the world spinning around you, bright spots appear in your eyes and it was hard to see anything at all. You force yourself to move forward, not wanting to pass out in the middle of a teahouse, but your fears came true when you trip over your feet and come tumbling down the cobbled pavement of Liyue. It was just so incredibly hot, and your head was killing you with pulses of pain and discomfort.

Zhongli rises to his feet in a hurry, striding towards you and picking you up in his arms easily, careful not to jostle you. Your eyes are shut tight, grimace on your face and it was clear that you were in pain. “Beloved, tell me what’s wrong,” there’s a sense of urgency in his voice, and people around you were staring, though you weren’t aware of it.

You whimper in response, the heat is still beating down on you and the sun’s rays were not helping. “It’s...I can’t breathe properly, it’s...It’s too hot,” you writhe in his hold, just wanting some form of breeze but it was also a windless day today.

Zhongli moves fast, he grabs the notes you left, excuses himself from the good sir and makes it home in a minute. He lays you down on the bed and grabs water and a newspaper from the living room. He lays the glass on the bedside tale and starts fanning you with the folded newspaper, watching your flushed, uncomfortable expression.

He feels disappointed only at himself for not being mindful enough of your condition, sometimes he forgets how fragile humans really are. “Drink some water, please,” he coaxes you, knowing that it would help your overheated system. He’d wanted to get you out of your current clothes as well, and have you change into looser and cooler ones.

“Y/N I’m going to help you out of your clothes and into new ones, would that be alright?” He’s been intimate with you a thousand times, so this was not something he was unfamiliar with. Only this time he was far too worried instead of feeling intimate.

When that was done, you had easily fallen asleep and he had called for a doctor, just to make sure everything was fine. Heat exhaustion was the answer that he got, and he was given a few home remedies and tips as well as medication to help regulate your temperature a little better.

He spent the whole time silently scolding himself at the fact he missed the tell tale signs. You being distracted during the whole trade was already a sign and yet he thought you were just tired. He sighed and closed his eyes as he sat on a chair next to the bed, feeling that he had really failed in taking care of you today.

“’Li?” Your voice snaps his eyes open and causes him to lean forward towards you.

“Is there something you need, darling?” he asks, the rare expression of worry etched on his face. You shake your head, already feeling better now that you were indoors.

“...Sorry we couldn’t go through with the--”

“Y/N, please don’t apologize for that,” his stern voice stops you, but his gaze softens and he takes your hand in his, cradling it as if it was porcelain. “There isn’t anything that’s more important to me than your health, do you understand?” he asks, but doesn’t wait for you to answer. “However small or slight it is, please let me know next time if you feel unwell or uncomfortable. You have to promise me this...”

You can’t help but smile at how serious he sounds, but you completely understood. “Okay, ‘Li, I promise to let you know,”

He sighs, and presses his lips onto your knuckles. “Thank you,”

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bloatedandalone04 · 7 months

Text

You Made it Shine

➪the one where you’ve been feeling a bit lonely, and leon intends on making it up to you.

Warnings: first time daddy kink writer - be gentle, age gap, 18+, daddy kink obvi, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (leon just really wants to knock you up), breeding kink, swearing, scratching, biting, hair pulling, choking, y’all are f r e a k y

Word Count: 4.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | Thank you for 3.6k followers mwah

Some trash reality TV show played in the background while you flipped to another page in your textbook. You had been given a fucking stupid amount of homework to do by next Monday, and you were beginning to feel stressed out about it all.

It didn’t help that you missed your boyfriend, either.

Leon had been very busy lately, and you only really saw him when he got in bed with you after eleven PM.

While you didn’t know much about what he did for work, you knew it required him to be gone a lot and he had to dedicate most of his time to it.

You huff quietly as you scribble out a word you misspelt before trying again, glancing over at your phone when it went off from its place on the floor beside you.

Daddy 💖: Gonna be another late night, I think. I’m sorry, baby, I know you wanted to watch that new movie. I promise we’ll get to it soon. Be home in a few hours ❤️

You huff again and quickly type out a message before tossing your phone aside, knowing damn well how childish you are acting, but also not caring at all.

I’m bored, Leon. I miss you. Let me know when you have time for me.

As you started to read over the notes you took during your lecture earlier today, your phone went off again within seconds of you sending that last text.

Daddy 💖: Don’t be like that, princess, I’m feeling bad enough as it is. I’ll be home soon and then we can figure out a time that works for both of us. Only a few more weeks then I’ll get to use some of my unpaid days off, and I’ll be spending every one with you.

You bite your lip and decide not to answer, already feeling a bit bad for how you acted in your previous message to him.

Leon worked very hard and put in more hours than most people, and you knew he got into that kind of work early on in his life. He didn’t tell you really anything about his job, but you knew he started when he was twenty one and had been in the same field ever since, now at the age of thirty three.

You were only twenty two, and you seriously couldn’t imagine putting yourself through half the things he did, so you had to appreciate his dedication, even if just a little bit.

After reading for a while, you ventured off to yours and Leon’s shared room and changed into a lacy, black two piece pyjama set so you could be a bit more comfortable while you studied.

You ate a few pieces of strawberries you had cut up for lunch earlier as you skimmed through your notes, the time passing by quicker than you thought it would.

Before long the front door was swinging open and slamming shut, and the sound of heavy footsteps were heard approaching the living room. “Baby,” Leon rasped as he stood in the doorway.

You look up at him from your spot on the carpet, your books and pages scattered around you. “Hi,”

Leon shrugged off his jacket and tossed it onto the armchair next to the door before he was slowly crouching down and meeting your eye level. “Hi,” he said back. His eyes raked over the mess of papers and the tired look on your face, his heart aching a bit at how neglected you looked. “I was worried about you.”

You leaned into his touch when he reached over and ran his knuckles along the curve of your jaw. “Why?”

“You didn’t answer my text,” he stated as his gaze dipped down to your lips.

Shrugging, you look back at your book. “I felt bad for how I acted,”

“For how you acted?” Leon laughed quietly and moved so he is kneeling next to you. “Baby, I’m the one who cancelled our plans, again. I’m the one who feels bad.”

You tilt your head when his chin comes to rest on your shoulder. “It’s alright,” you murmured as you felt his lips softly brush the skin behind your ear. “Work comes first. I know that.”

“Not when it comes to you,” he corrected as he moved to pull you onto his lap right there on the living room floor. “You should know that, instead.”

You were finding it hard to focus with his body pressed right up against your back, and his hands running up and down the skin of your thighs, but you played it up as if his actions didn’t faze you.

Until he leaned in and pressed his lips to the side of your neck, moving upwards to whisper, “You look so pretty, baby,” and you just could not stop the shiver that ran through your body. “Did you wear this for me?”

You were helpless as you nodded, glancing over at the time on your phone and seeing that Leon had only been at work for another hour before getting home, and not a few like he said. “Did you rush home for me?”

“Everything I do is for you,” he reminded you as he trailed his mouth along your shoulder blade. “Everyday, you’re on my mind, baby.”

You bite your lip as you turn your head so you can look into his annoyingly pretty eyes. Pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, you close your eyes as you lean back against him. “I missed you, daddy,”

Leon groaned and pressed a proper kiss to your mouth, slipping his hands under your shirt as he murmured, “I missed you, too, princess. Fuck, did I ever,”

You turn fully so you’re straddling his lap and grip his shoulders with your fingers. “Touch me,” you nearly begged, missing the feeling of his hands on your body after going without it for nearly two straight weeks. “Please.”

Leon cooed at your pout, reaching up to pull at your bottom lip with his thumb. “My sweet girl,” he said, more so to himself. “I haven’t been taking very good care of you, have I?”

You shook your head and pressed your knees into the carpet on either side of his hips. “No, you always take good care of me,” you promised, tangling your hands in his hair. “I just miss you.”

He nodded and placed a noisy kiss on your lips. “I’m right here, baby,” he swore as his hands drifted lower, taking the lace of your panties between his fingers and pulling it down with him. “I’ll take care of you, like I always do.” He said against your mouth as he gently lifted you up and placed you down so your back is against the papers that were scattered all over the carpet.

They crinkle under you, but you don’t care as he pulls the lace from your body and immediately replaces it with his lips. You sigh and jolt a bit as you reach down to grip his head with one hand. “Daddy,”

Leon grunted against your core and the vibrations had you bucking up against him. “That’s right, baby,” he muttered, running the tips of his fingers along your wet folds. “You needed your daddy, huh?”

“Always,” you answer, spreading your thighs a bit more as he further delved into you. “I always need you, Leon.”

He hummed against your clit. “I need you, too,” he promised, wrapping his free arm around your thigh and pulling your body closer to his greedy mouth. “Every single fucking day I need you. You’ve made me so damn pathetic, princess.”

You moaned and arched your back a bit, further scrunching up the notes you took. “You’re so good to me, daddy,” you nearly whisper. “That doesn’t make you pathetic. It’s so attractive, you don’t even know how hot you are.”

Leon smiled up at you in appreciation. “I bet you don’t realize how hot you are, either, sweet girl,” he says. “And you taste so fucking good, I could stay down here forever.”

It was a sight that was nearly too hot to handle. Leon hadn’t even been home for five minutes before he was going down on you, still wearing his work clothes, which consisted of black jeans, a black shirt that fit him so well and showed off his toned chest, and boots.

You always thought he looked too hot to be going to work, but then you realized that he simply looked too hot all the time. How you managed to get him all to yourself, you’d never know, but he is somehow completely obsessed with you in every possible way.

“That’s fine with me,” you murmur, running your fingers through his hair and looking down at him. “I’m always so wet for you.”

Leon groaned loudly and began to fuck his fingers into your greedy core. “I know, sweet girl,” he mumbled, coating his fingers in your wetness with every thrust of his hand. “You’re so sensitive. I can just look at you and you’d get wet for me.”

“I can’t help it,” you say quietly. “You’re so hot, daddy.”

“I’m not teasing you, baby,” he promised, kissing your inner thigh as he continued to move his fingers in and out of you. “Not at all. I love how much you need me and how much I turn you on. It’s the same way for me. You make me so hard, it’s painful sometimes.”

You gasp out a laugh that quickly turns into a moan when he curls his fingers in order to be able to reach your sweet spot. “Daddy,” you whined, bucking your hips up as best as you could against his firm hold. “Please.”

“I know, princess,” he hummed, fucking his fingers hard into you and loving the way your face scrunched up at the pleasure. “I know. You just need your daddy to make you come, huh?”

“Please,” you say again, reaching down to grip his hand in yours. His other picked up the pace and his thumb brushed against your clit with every thrust. “Please.”

Leon kissed all along your thighs, never taking his eyes off your face. “I love it when you beg, baby,” he says. “But you don’t need to right now. I’m gonna get you off so good, I promise.”

“Leon,” you nearly yelled as his mouth returned to your clit. He sucked on it harshly and felt as your thighs shook a bit. He moved down when he felt your release coat his fingers, and delved his tongue within your walls to taste you.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl,” he praised, sliding his sopping fingers out of you and licking them clean. “You taste so good, baby. So sweet.”

You whine and pull him down on top of you. “Please, daddy,” you begged, kissing him deeply as he settled between your thighs. “I need you. Want you to fuck me so badly.”

He tsked, bracing himself by his forearms on either side of your head. Next to where your hair is sprawled out was a sheet from the lecture you had earlier, and Leon grinned at the small amount of drool that left your lips and landed on the paper. It smudged your name and made the ink bleed a bit, but you didn’t care at all. “Look at you,” he groaned, licking up the line of salvia from your mouth to your jaw. “My smart girl, all hot and bothered for me. You want me to fuck you stupid, huh?”

“Yes,” came your instant reply.

The sight of you was something that couldn’t even be found on the internet. You were so pure and so rare, and all his.

You were too smart for your own good, yet he could easily get you all dumb for him and his dick. He can easily get you desperate for him.

“Wait,” he requested, grinding against you when you whined at the word. Your whole body shook as his jeans brushed against your wet and sensitive core, and it was almost enough to have you push him away. “See? You’re not ready to get off again. Not yet.”

He leaned in to kiss all over your collarbones and shoulders, one hand reaching down to push up your flimsy top. Your breasts spill free from the thin fabric and he moves further down in order to wrap his lips around your nipple.

“I’ll get you ready,” he promised as he swirled his tongue around the taunt peak, his fingers moving to pinch and pull at your neglected one. “Get you all nice and ready for daddy’s dick.”

“Mm, fuck,” you whined, raking your fingers through his hair and pulling on the light strands. “Leon…Fuck, I love you.”

He grunted against your nipple, pulling away and leaving a strand of salvia behind. “I love you so much more, baby. My pretty girl,” he leaned back on his knees, draping your thighs over his as he slowly rocked his hips into yours. You looked so fucked out already, with your tits on full display, your thighs coated in your own release, and your lips swollen and wet. Leon had never seen a prettier sight.

The front of his jeans quickly began to sport a damp spot from the way he rubbed against your dripping core, and he never wanted to wash them. He could live happily forever while just being covered in your sweet scent.

You whimpered as you played with your nipples, the slow grind of his hips beginning to work you up again. Your quiet gasps and moans were music to his ears, and Leon was prepared to take tomorrow off just so he can spend the whole day eliciting more sounds from you.

The cool metal of his zipper against your heated clit had your eyes rolling back, your chest lifting up and causing your notes to become wrinkled under you. “Daddy,” you whispered, grinding up against him. He stilled his hips and let you rub against him, his eyes following the lift and drag of your core against his painfully hard dick through his jeans.

“There you go,” he rasped, gripping your waist and giving you a sharp thrust. You moan loudly, bucking against him desperately. “You sound so sweet, baby. So good for me.”

“Please,” you whisper.

He pulls away and watches as your core drips with arousal, sliding down your folds and wetting your anatomy notes without a care in the world. He wanted to lick it up so badly, but refrained from doing so when he felt your gentle tugs on his shirt.

Leon reached behind him and pulled off the tight fabric from his chest, tossing it aside to join your damp panties.

You bite your lip and sit up, pulling off your own shirt and throwing it to the side as well. The sound of pages crumpling fills the room as you move to copy his knelt stance, your body much smaller than his and making you have to tilt your head to be able to look up at him.

Leon reaches down and grazes your cheek with his knuckles. “What do you want, baby?”

You hum, kissing his wrist before moving up to kiss his lips. Your arms wrap around his shoulders as he deepens the kiss, his hands sliding up to tangle in your hair as his tongue explore your strawberry tasting mouth. “I wanna make you feel good, daddy,” you murmur when you pull away.

Placing open mouthed kisses down his chest, you pause at the waistband of his jeans. You glance up at him as your fingers make work of unzipping them after pulling his belt off.

“Let me go down on you, daddy,” you offered, pushing down his black boxer briefs and freeing him. “Let me suck you off.”

Leon groaned and tightened his grip on your hair. “You don’t have to ask, princess,” he reminded you. “You know I won’t ever pass up one of your blowjobs.”

You grinned, gripping him tightly. “I know,” you say before wrapping your lips around him. Starting off with his tip, you run your tongue along his head before slowly taking more of him. You hollow your cheeks and take him until your nose is pressed to his pelvis bone and he is hitting the back of your throat.

You move so you’re lying flat on your front, your hips pressed to the floor and your juices still dripping onto your homework pages.

Leon groaned loudly, gathering your hair into a ponytail as you began to suck him off. “God, baby, you’re going to need to ask for a new page for your homework assignment,” he announced. “You’re soaking the one you have now.”

You moan around him, your eyes nearly rolling back when you feel your clit throb at his words. You clench helplessly around nothing at all, your walls pulsating with every sound that leaves his sinful lips.

“It’s all for you,” you tell him, stroking his wet shaft with your hand as you lean forward to kiss along his abs. His body was insane and you were sure you could spend the rest of your life exploring it and never get bored of the way it felt against your hands.

He worked out so often, his body had no choice but to tighten up in all the right places. “I know it is, sweet girl,” he mumbled. “All mine, aren’t you? Mine to take whenever I want.”

You moan embarrassingly loud at his possessive words, feeling more wetness drip from your folds. “I’m so wet, daddy,” you gasp, licking his tip once more. “I missed you so much.”

“I know, baby,” he cooed, tugging on your lip with the thumb of his freehand. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much. I missed you, too. You need me to fuck you now, sweet girl?”

You hum, pulling off him again and stroking him with both hands. “I need it so badly,”

Leon hummed in agreement. “Lay back, princess,” he instructed quietly. You oblige right away, sitting up only to lay on your back a few seconds later.

“Are you going to breed me, daddy? Get me all knocked up?” You tease, knowing how badly he wanted to see you round with his baby. Being with you had unlocked so many kinks, Leon hadn’t even heard of some of them, but he knew he definitely had them.

Leon cursed under his breath as he pulled his jeans off completely and threw them to the side. “I’m going to fuck you so good, baby,” he promised, staying in his knelt position and grabbing your thighs. He spread your legs and exposed your awaiting core, all ready and his for the taking. “Show all those college boys how badly you wanted me to knock you up.”

You moan loudly, propping yourself up on your elbows so you can watch him coat his salvia covered dick in your wetness before easily sliding in you. Your head falls back and your chest pushes up, your nipples hard and straining against the cool air in the room. “Fuck,”

“That’s my girl,” he grunted once he was fully buried in you. “So fucking tight.”

“Daddy,” you whine, watching as he began to slowly fuck into you. “You stretch me so good.”

Leon grunted in reply. “You were made for me, princess,” he says, draping your thighs over his again and rocking his hips into yours. “Mine from the very beginning.”

“Fuck, Leon,” you moan, the slick sound of your walls taking every inch of him filling the room. “I need you, daddy. Please.”

“How do you need it, baby?” He asked, running his hands up and down your thighs.

“Hard,” you answer, and that was all he needed. He gripped your waist tightly and began fucking into you fast and steady, making your whole body jolt and shake with each thrust. “Oh, fuck. Fuck.”

Your head falls back and you lay down again, reaching down to grab onto his wrists. “Like this?” He mocked under his breath, eyeing the way your tits bounced with every move he made.

“Yes,” you moan. “Fuck yes, daddy, just like that.”

“Good girl,” he praised, adoring how responsive you always are to him. “I’ll fuck you nice and hard, like you deserve.”

You whimper and he reaches one hand up to fondle one of your breasts, his thumb and index finger pinching your already hard nipple. Your whole body shakes a bit as he uses his other thumb to rub harsh circles onto your clit.

It was probably too much too fast, but he knew you could take it.

You were his sweet, cock-hungry girl, of course you could take it.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you lay back and push away various papers, not caring about their well-being at all as you shove them away from you.

You should have more self control. You should be studying right now and watching your dumb reality TV show, but here you are instead, splayed out and taking him so well like you always did.

You couldn’t help it. Leon was so effortlessly attractive and he got you going without even trying.

You missed this physical contact with him for weeks, and you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity to get off with him.

“Feel good, baby?” He asked, drilling into you without showing any signs of stopping. “Feel full?”

“Yes,” you respond not even a second later. “Feels so good, Leon.”

He grunted, removing his hand from your chest and sliding it upwards until his fingers were gently pressing against the base of your throat.

At the slight blocking of your airway, your eyes light up and you grin at him. “Yes,” you moan again, wrapping your nimble fingers around his wrist.

Leon stared down at the sight below him, his lips parting a bit as he groaned loudly. “My dirty girl, huh? Letting me do whatever I want to you. Letting me fuck you raw,” he mutters, more so to himself. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you want me to knock you up.”

You moan in response, clenching tightly around him. “Leon,”

“Yeah,” he huffed, tightening his fingers around your throat. “You want me to fuck a baby into you, don’t you? Get you all nice and pregnant?”

You both knew that he wanted that, and you did, too, but later down the road. Maybe after you graduate college.

Leon understood that and is more than supportive of it, so he settled on fantasizing about it instead.

It was just so hard to not imagine a future where you and he start a family of your own. He couldn’t wait.

“I want it, daddy,” you whimper, feeding into his kink. “Wanna make you feel good.”

“You do make me feel good, sweet girl,” he murmured, gripping your hips in both hands as he fucked into you hard. “You make me feel so good, wrapped around me so tightly, taking me like the good girl you are. You’re so good to me, baby.”

Your eyes roll back as you blindly reach for him. Pulling him down on top of you, your legs wrap around his waist when he moves so he’s hovering over you.

Raking your nails down his back, you hear him inhale sharply next to your ear. “There you go,” he muttered. “Scratch me up, princess. I want it.”

You oblige and dig your nails a little deeper, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to leave angry red trails indented on his back. “Leon,” you gasp as you clamp down tightly around him. “Please, make me come again. I need it.”

“Come, baby,” he requested. “All over me. I want you to make it so fucking messy.”

He leaned down and gently sunk his teeth into the skin of your shoulder. His tongue soothed the small sting and your body pulsated a bit as you felt your second orgasm rip through you. “Fuck, Leon, fuck fuck,”

Your walls sucked him in impossibly deeper and each thrust of his hips was noisier than the last. The faint squelch was barely heard over your loud cries as you came harder than before, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Fuck yeah,” he grunted as he felt your warmth flood around him. “Good girl.”

His words set butterflies loose in your body and you cling onto him with every ounce of energy you have left. “Daddy,” you whispered, your core begging for a break but also begging for him to fill you up. “Come, please…inside me.”

Leon lets out a throaty groan as he fucked into you a few more times before stilling. He comes deep within your soaked walls, painting your core white as he fills you up to the brim. “Fuck, baby,” he rasps, pulling out slightly then slipping back inside you again.

He wanted to make sure his seed reached as deep as it could go in you, even if there was no way you could actually get pregnant right now since you’re on the pill.

You whine a bit when he pulls out completely, replacing his dick with his fingers as he pushes his come back inside you. “Where it belongs,” he mumbles as he leans down to press a kiss to your abused core.

You shudder a bit as he moves back up your body and wraps you in his arms. Relaxing against his chest, you let out uneven breaths as you feel his seed run down your folds and seep into your lecture notes. “Thank you,” you whisper, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw. “I really did miss you so much, Leon.”

He kisses your forehead and tightens his hold on you a bit. “I missed you, too, sweet girl,” he replied, knowing both you and he would probably wake up tomorrow with rug burn marks on your bodies. “I’m sorry for not being here very much. I promise it’ll only be a couple more weeks and then I’ll be given a break.”

“It’s okay,” you smile, giving him another kiss. “You made up for it tonight.”

Kind of don’t like this at all, so be gentle and lie to me if you hate it, too x

#leon #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon re #leon smut #re4 leon #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil 4 #resident evil 2 remake #resident evil x reader

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guilty-pleasures21 · 3 months

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HEYEYYH, How about a Jason with a girlfriend who does massages? But somehow his girl's hands ended up on his thigh muscles, which we all know how that ended *cofcofthecofreadercofprobablycofendedcofupcofdoggycofstylecofoncofthecofcouchcofcof* 🫠

(Unfortunately I'm mexican and I know how to give massages so the idea just came up while I was working JAJAJAKS)

— 🐏

I'm back! I did it! It's a little short, but I hope you enjoy 😊!

The massage

Giving boyfriend Jason a massage when his leg is feeling sore.

Warnings: explicit description of sex including blowjob (m receiving) and penetration (p in v).

---------------------------------------------------------

X slid her gaze over to her boyfriend as he made his way to the sofa. He tried to hide it, but she noticed the way he favoured his right leg as he walked, his steps uneven because of whatever injury he might have picked up on his mission earlier that day. He sank onto the sofa beside her, a sigh of relief escaping his lips once he was off his feet.

“Jay?” X asked, placing a hand on his thigh. “What happened to your leg?”

“Ah, nothing,” he reassured her, shifting in position to get himself more comfortable. “It's just a little sore. I'll be fine.”

“I’ll massage it for you,” X decided, getting up and gesturing for him to lay down. “Lie down.”

Jason hesitated, still unused to communicating his needs across to her - across to anyone, really, never mind that they’d already been dating for six months. But she never pushed him about it - she’d always been patient with him for as long as they’d known each other, and that was probably why he’d eventually fallen in love with her. Jason pulled his legs up onto the sofa and lay back, settling himself against the cushions as he waited. X grinned and took a seat at the other end, then began gently rubbing his feet.

“How was your day?” Jason asked, relaxing at the feeling of her fingers gently coaxing the tension from his muscles. He liked hearing about her work - about the everyday drama that most people would experience throughout their lifetime. Most people aside from him. But at least he got to experience it through her, his clever and sweet girlfriend. She shrugged.

“It was okay. Not much happened today. Oh!” Her eyes lit up as she remembered some gossip she must have forgotten about. She leaned closer to him, lowering her voice as if someone might overhear them and his chest warmed at the familiar look of delight on her face.

“The old intern was telling me that that one scary boss lady wants to hold a meeting for the new interns to teach them ‘proper work etiquette’,” she revealed to him, pausing to give him a shocked look. “Isn't that so embarrassing?! She said that, apparently, a lot of people have complained about them already.” X winced at the idea, then spread Jason's legs apart so she could settle herself between them.

“What did they do wrong?” Jason asked, curious now to find out more. X shrugged.

“I don't know.” She pursed her lips to think about it, her hands ceasing their movements for a moment. “They're a little loud. And I feel like they gossip a lot.”

“About who?”

“Mostly people at their school.” She resumed her massage, her hands landing on his thighs now. “Do you want to talk about your day?” He didn't always like going through it - whatever horror he might have had to face that day - so she’d always ask him first, then distract him with stories about her work if he wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. It calmed him down sometimes, knowing that there were other people out there who just continued to mill about their days, even when his felt like it was falling apart. He shook his head, but maintained a relaxed expression, not wanting her to get too worried.

“I just helped Dick out with some of Penguin’s goons. Nothing much, just tired.” He knew how much she’d worry about him when he was on a mission, though she’d always try to hide it behind a calm exterior when they were together. She cared about him so much, his sweet little girlfriend, and he always made sure he did his best to reciprocate her efforts. He'd never been very good at expressing his feelings, but he always pushed himself to do better when it came to her: he loved her, after all, and he never wanted her to question that fact.

“Hmm.” X pushed herself to her knees, her hands moving dangerously close to his centre as she continued to massage the insides of his thighs. “Any plans for tomorrow?”

Jason shook his head, trying to ignore the way his core was starting to tighten as she rubbed her thumbs along the joint between his pelvis and his thighs. “No. Anything you want to do? We can go on a date if you're free?”

X grinned at the thought. Jason was a lot more romantic than most people would have expected, always planning little surprises for her and gifting her whatever new item she'd been obsessing over for the past week. But she loved just getting to spend time with him; to see the peace grace his rugged features as they went on a picnic or caught a movie or strolled through the park beneath the stars. She inched her hands closer to his centre, delighting in the sight of the rapidly growing tent in his sweatpants.

“Hmm, what should I do with my super hot boyfriend tomorrow?” X wondered aloud, feigning a look of innocence as she looked up at him. “Should we go ice skating?” F*ck, she was driving him crazy! The way she fluttered her eyelashes up at him as she continued to massage his erogenous zones? Jason shifted in position, his body starting to get more excited as she continued to run her fingers all over him.

“Uh, wouldn't it be too crowded?” he pointed out, pushing himself a little higher up the sofa so her hands fell back down his thighs. It was a weekend, after all - people would probably bring their kids there and then dump them for a few hours while they went and ran their errands. X shuffled forward, her wicked gaze fixed on his centre as she slid her hands back up his thighs.

“Hmm, you're probably right. Should we go for a movie then?” She licked her lips as she snuck her hands beneath his shirt and ran them across his hard abdomen. Then she tugged on the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling it down slightly so that her fingers were tantalising close to his d*ck.

“X.” Jason placed a hand over hers, intending to stop her, but he ended up just following her movements as she continued to tease him.

“Hmm. Jay?” X sat back finally, her hands resting on the tops of his thighs as she looked up at him. “Do you want me to rub some oil on you or something? Just to warm you up a bit?”

Shit. He knew exactly what she was really asking him - exactly what she was planning on doing to him - with that mischievous glint in her eyes as she waited for his response. He swallowed hard, but found himself nodding in agreement to all the dirty thoughts flitting over her sweet face. X grinned and shot out of her seat immediately, rushing over to her room to get the massage oil. Jason sighed at her excitement and covered his face with his hands, already regretting his decision.

“I'm back!” X sang as she jumped onto the sofa and started tugging his pants down. Jason chuckled nervously as he pushed himself off of his seat, his body already tightening in response to her eagerness.

“Slow down, sweetheart,” he told her gently, lowering himself back down once she'd ripped his pants off and tossed them aside. He watched as she poured some oil onto her palms and rubbed them together before returning her hands to his thighs. And then he was gripping on the edge of the sofa, doing his best to control himself as she slid her hands along the sides of his c*ck. F*ck, she was driving him crazy.

“X.” X snickered at the tightness in Jason’s voice - at the obvious arousal he was trying so hard to hide from her. She rubbed her thumbs along the insides of his thighs, careful to keep her distance from the one part of him that was throbbing for her touch.

“What?” she asked him, her voice dripping with exaggerated innocence. “I’m slowing down, Jace.” Jason sighed at her response and let his head fall back against the cushions. She loved to tease him like this - to play dumb when she was probably the smartest person he knew - just because she loved how frustrated he’d get by it, his thick brows drawing together, his wide lips twisting down at the ends, his teeth gritting together to accentuate his sharp jawline. She went crazy for it. And he went crazy because of it.

God, he looked so hot, his body tightening in response to her teasing, his jaw clenching in frustration at her fake naivete. She keep her eyes fixed on his face as she finally ran her hands over his c*ck, watching with delight as he closed his eyes and sucked in a breath.

“F*ck,” he breathed, his muscles clenching at the feeling of her sliding her hands all over his c*ck. Shit, she was good, her tender touch easing all the tension that had built up in his body. He’d completely forgotten about his sore leg as she’d played with his c*ck, the pleasure of having her fingers running along his shaft casting all other thoughts out of his mind. X curled her fingers around him, fisting his c*ck tightly, and swiped her thumb across his slit, causing his back to arch off the sofa in response. “X …”

“Jay?” Jason looked up at her, his expression dazed as he grunted in question. X grinned and leaned over him, tilting her head so that her hair brushed along the side of his neck. “Do you mind if I take my clothes off, baby? They’re getting a little oily.”

He was so hot, her boyfriend, and it thrilled to know that she could get him so aroused: his mossy eyes darkening with lust every time he looked at her, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as she pumped his c*ck in her fist, his teeth sinking into his lower lip whenever she gave him a tight squeeze. And the sounds he’d make?! Holy shit, the satisfied groans and rumbles and the awestruck curses that would fall from his mouth as she teased and pleasured him?!

She gave him a little pout and Jason felt his c*ck twitch at the sight of her. F*ck, she was cute. His eyes fell to her body, to her delicious curves concealed by her pyjamas, and he licked his lips in anticipation. “Take them off, sweetheart.”

X felt a shiver run down her spine at the huskiness in his tone; at the pure desire drenching his voice as he looked at her. She grinned and sat back to start taking her clothes off, and Jason ripped his shirt off as well before sinking back into his seat. He watched with delight as his beautiful girlfriend exposed herself to him, her messy hair spilling over her shoulders and brushing over her full breasts. He muttered a curse as she climbed on top of him, her p*ssy already dripping as she settled herself over his d*ck. Then she glided her hands up his torso and continued with her ‘massage’, her fingers kneading his shoulders as her breasts pressed into his chest, her lips centimetres from his. Jason slid his hands around her waist and sucked in a breath when she ground her hips into his, her soft little p*ssy rubbing against his c*ck. F*ck, she was gorgeous, her tumbling curls, her long eyelashes, her rosy lips.

“Mmm, f*ck,” he groaned as he ran his hands all over her body, his movements easy thanks to the slippery oil that had transferred to her skin. Her eyelids fluttered shut as he moved his hands to cup her breasts, and he heard a soft gasp escape from her lips when he began circling her nipples with his thumbs.

“J-Jason,” she stammered, her p*ssy throbbing pleadingly as he began moving his hips against hers. “I'm … supposed to be … giving you … the massage.”

“I know, baby,” Jason reassured her, his hands kneading her breasts gently. “And you're doing such a good job. Such a good massage, baby, such a … F*ck!” His back arched off the sofa as she wriggled on top of him, squirming at the feeling of his fingers closing around her sensitive flesh. And then he was lifting her off of him and flipping her over, so that she was on her hands and knees in front of him, her legs spread apart and ready for him to enter.

X twisted her head back to look at him in question, confused by the sudden switch in position. But then his c*ck was inside of her, stretching her out and filling her up and all she could do was flop over onto the sofa and sigh with relief.

“Shit, baby,” she heard Jason murmur behind her as he grabbed onto her thighs. “Gonna … Gonna f*ck you so hard. Gonna reward this … pretty little p*ssy of yours … with a nice massage too.” She let out a whimper as he began thrusting his hips against hers, his c*ck sliding in and out of her at a torturously slow pace. God, he was so hard already, she didn't know how he could possibly control himself.

“Jason,” she whined, tearing up with frustration at the way he held her back from her orgasm.

“I know, baby, I know, just …” He sped up his thrusts a little, his c*ck pumping in and out of her easily, slick with a mixture of her cum and the oil she'd spread all over him. He rolled his hips around, causing his bulk to brush up against all her walls, and she groaned at the feeling of his tip prodding at that one spot inside of her. Shit, he felt good.

Jason chuckled at the way his sweet little girlfriend's eyes rolled back in her head as he pleasured her with his c*ck, the moans and whimpers falling from her lips driving him crazy. She was so f*cking gorgeous, her slender fingers gripping onto the cushions, her soft breasts bouncing against the sofa as he drove himself repeatedly into her. And f*ck, her p*ssy? Her tight little p*ssy that welcomed him in so nicely, her warm and wet walls clinging to him desperately and begging him not to let go. F*ck, she felt good. “You like that, sweetheart? You like the way my c*ck is 'massaging' that tight little p*ssy of yours?”

X gave a loud moan in response, no longer able to form words, and Jason sped up his movements, his fingers digging into her ass to keep her in place. He felt so good, his thick c*ck stretching out her walls, his hard abs brushing against her ass, his balls pounding against her clit and teasing her to no end. She tightened her grip on the pillow she'd been clutching, her core tightening around his d*ck. Then she came, her body writhing helplessly as she pulsed hard around his c*ck. Jason slowed his movements, his hips stuttering at the feeling of her p*ssy squeezing his d*ck so desperately. Then he fell over the edge too, his warm c*m filling up her cervix as he relieved himself inside of her.

They stayed like that for a while after, the both of them panting heavily as they tried to catch their breaths. Then Jason pulled himself out of her, his hands keeping her in place so he could watch his c*m leak back out of her.

“Jason,” X breathed, pushing herself to her hands and twisting around to look at him. His eyes were still fixed on his centre, his expression delighted as he watch his c*m dripping from her p*ssy. X let out a soft snicker and turned around to face her boyfriend, sitting back on her knees and gathering her hair behind her shoulders. He was so cute when he was all dazed with lust, his eyes unfocused as he lifted them to her face. She shuffled forward and cupped his cheek in her hand, then leaned towards him to press a quick kiss to his lips. “How's your leg feeling, Jay?”

Jason grinned at her, his lips stretched into a stupidly wide smile. “It's feeling better than before, but I think I'm going to need another massage tomorrow night.”

“Oh, really?” X raised an eyebrow, then leaned forward again to press another sweet kiss to his lips. “Then I guess I’d better get more oil.”

#jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood smut #red hood fanfiction #red hood #dc x fem #dc x y/n #dc x you #dc x reader #dc fanfic

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marnikula · 9 days

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Can u do early seasons spencer x reader who has a lot of problems and they let people walk all over them and they dont set boundaries and they struggle with their emotions. Reader likes spencer a lot but doesn't seek him out bc they feel like he deserves better! And u can decide what happens but make it happy ending :)

Oh my word, I literally spent like 2 hours writing this because I wrote something and then my internet cut out when I posted and now it's lost, so I had to rewrite it. Hope you enjoy!

Cw: gn reader, people dumping work on reader, Spencer being cute

Enjoy!

You were a doormat. You knew it, your friends knew it, everyone knew it. You tried to set boundaries, to say no, but it never seemed to stick. Saying no made you feel guilty, it made you feel like a bad person even though you knew you weren't.

Being a doormat, people tended to walk all over you, requesting ridiculous things of you. That is how it came to be that you were sitting alone in the bullpen, the clock ticking away, showing you that it was around midnight and you still had a whole stack of papers to go through. You felt yourself about to fall asleep, and truly, you were too tired to fight it off when a ding signaled the arrival of someone.

Without even turning to look who it was you knew it was Spencer Reid. You recognized his footsteps, and even if you didn't, the smell he brought with him would have alerted you. It was the smell of coffee mixed sweet undertones, almost as if he had spent his whole day in a café. It was intoxicating. "What are you still doing here?" "Working, I have a lot of stuff to finish before tomorrow" "you mean today" looking back at the clock you could see he was right, it was now officially the next day.

"Do you need some help?" without even waiting for you to decline Spencer took half of the pile you were working on. He moved fast, knowing you well enough to know that you hated asking for help, especially from him, he just could never figure out why.

"Spencer, you really don't need to, I've got this" reaching your hands to take the files back only to be swatted away by the doctor was something you did not expect. "I'm not saying you don't have it, I'm just going to help you so you can go home earlier"

Sighing you admitted defeat and went to go make coffee for the two of you. With Spencer's help you managed to make it through the massive stack of papers on your desk in less that an hour, something you would never have been able to do on your own.

"You, doctor Spencer Reid, are amazing, what can I do to thank you?" it was a slight tease on your part. You didn't expect him to ask you anything return, it wasn't like him, he was too nice . That was one of the things you loved about him, and one of the reasons you willed the crush growing in your heart to shrivel up and die. He deserved so much better than you. Someone with a mind as amazing as his own, someone with kindness rivaling his and someone who knew how to say no. You were none of those. At least not in your own eyes.

"You could go on a date with me" Spencer surprised himself with those words, he really hadn't meant to say them out loud, but he really liked you, and in a moment of confidence inspired by sleep deprevation, he decided to take a chance.

"Really? You mean it?" the both of you were blushing hard at this point, him thinking about how he could have possibly screwed this up and you thinking about how this could possibly get any better.

"I-I mean, only if you want to, you really don't have to feel pressured, I know I said I would take it as paiment, but honestly spending time with you was enough of a payme-" grabbing his face in your hands you turned him to look at you, shutting off his ramblings with the movement and shutting off his brain with your words

"I would love to"

#dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #doctor spencer reid #bau #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff

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pablitogavii · 4 months

Note

I NEED A NEW POST ASAP 😭😭😭😭

Coming your way! <333

Good News

It was a grueling couple of months for Pablo. You made sure to be besides him through all of it and show your support.

Oftentimes you couldn't do much about the pain but after the long physicals you would cuddle him and play with his hair while he sleeps on your chest.

You also tried to talk to him through more depressive steps where he would watch his old videos with teammates and reminisce of the times he played for Barça.

"I want to go back amor ... I'm lost without them ... and so tired" one night he cried after a very intnse physical feeling his whole body trembling from how much pain he had to push through.

"I know, cariño ...and you will just rest now" you reassured him while he kept swiping through pictures enjoying your hands in his hair.

Today was a talk with his doctors who will give him an approximate return date and Pablo was so nervous about it. It was scheduled for ten in the morning but he was already up at five twisting and turning in bed until you woke up as well.

"Pablo, it's not even morning ...go back to bed cariño porfa" I said and he pulled you closer starting to kiss all over your face not letting you sleep.

"I can't sleep amor ... I'm so anxious!!!" he whined and you giggled opening your eyes and pulling him into a kiss.

"Want me to make some breakfast then?" you ask and he holds you tight not letting you move away from him.

"I want you here with me ... just tell me everything will be fine porfa" he said twirling a piece of your hair around his fingers.

"Of course everything will be fine cariño ... you're recovering nicely and I'm sure it won't be too long until you return to the pitch" you said and he smiled praying to God you were right.

"Thank you, princesa ... what would have I done without you?" he said and you giggled kissing him.

"You wouldn't have anyone to torture at five in the morning!" you said and you both laughed while enjoying your time in bed.

When it was time to leave, Pablo's dad noticed his son's nervousness as he opened his car door.

"Did he sleep at all?" he asked you and you smiled saying he was just a bit anxious but will be better after the meet. You sat besides him holding his hand the whole ride.

Once arrived at the camp, there was a crowd all yelling "good luck Gavi!" while he nodded holding your hand tightly and limping inside carefully. There all his friends waited and gave him a reassuring hug before we were invite into the office with the doctors.

"Let's not crowd the room" the doctor said and you offered staying out but Gavi wouldn't let go of your hand now really starting to panic.

"Can she come inside with me, doctor?" he asked adorably and the older man smiled nodding his head and letting us both in followed by his father.

"First, I want you to know these are good news so don't be nervous" he started and Pablo finally relaxed. The doctor explained that his recovery is moving better than expected and that he will be ready for preseason maybe even earlier.

"So I might play Euros too?" Pablo was already ready to jump back in but doctor told him that would be a cardinal mistake.

"Cariño, remember we need to be patient" you say touching his cheek and he nods still a little disappointed but knowing this was all a blessing.

'You just keep listening to your lovely lady, and you will be back in no time kid" his dad says and Pablo kissed the top of your head lovingly while you smiled with red cheeks.

"I couldn't of done it without her ..." he said and everyone smiled at the two of you while you rested your head on his shoulder thanking God for there good news <333

y.n.bebe

Barcelona, Spain

From being his biggest fan to being his girlfriend ... my champion is coming back in June and I am thanking God for such a blessing every day. Love you, cariño ❤️❤️❤️

comentarios:

pablogavi: i love you mi amor!!!❤️❤️❤️

pedri: welcome back brother!

ansufati: the best!!!

fcbarcelona: waiting for you with open arms gavi❤️

aurorapezg: her love healed him❤️

gavisfans: love them together! come back strong champion

I'm so happy to hear he's coming back stronger! ❤️❤️❤️

#gavigif #gavi #fc barça #fc barca #fc barcelona #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi #gavi x reader #gavi x you #gavi x yn #pablogavira #pablogavixreadersmut #pablogavixreaderfluff

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moonchildstyles · 9 months

Text

ephemere

élan part three: when the night comes crashing down harry is the only one there for y/n.

wordcount: 22k+

cw: descriptions of a panic attack, unwanted advances against our y/n (nothing too intense), and her dad is veryyyy mean in this one

—————

"Good morning!" Dom—(Y/N)'s stylist, and the most important person of the day—sung as he swept through her apartment, a team of people following behind, "We have so much to do today, are you ready?"

(Y/N) sleepily shut the door behind the last person that trickled in. "Yeah," she yawned, forcing herself to keep her eyes open after the lingering blink she gave.

Today was early enough already with the fact Harry had come over an hour prior, and now her apartment was full of half a dozen others that were way too happy for the early hour. (To be fair, it was just before ten a.m., but she didn't love to get up any earlier than that when it wasn't a pilates day).

Tonight was finally the night of the 132 Gala. She'd prepped as much as she could this week—an esthetician visit the other day, waxing studio visit the day before, a touch-up and trial run appointment with her hair stylist earlier in the week—but so much of the process had to be left to the day of.

"Just yeah?" Dom teased, imitating her sleepy voice, "I thought you'd be excited to see me today."

"I am, I am," (Y/N) argued, trudging towards him with her sleep shorts rustling against her thighs, "I didn't sleep well last night, but I promise I'm excited. Just a little tired."

She wasn't lying about her late night, the small hours of the morning having been the only time she managed to sleep. A letter had been sent to her apartment the night before, plaguing her mind a little too deeply.

It had only been a matter of time, she knew when she saw the official publications posting about her secret rendezvous with Harry at the country club. (Her favorite was the subline on one article, saying that (Y/N) was insisting he was only a bodyguard but how could she resist a body like that? As invasive as it was, it was still rather clever). Now that less real drama was circulating about her, rumors had taken the helm and that seemed to draw her admirer out much more often; less concrete answers seemed to draw them out. They seemed to feel a need to rewrite them to fit a specific mold they had for her, one (Y/N) never really understood the parameters of. It gave her a spike of anxiety in the pit of her stomach now whenever she picked up her mail, worrying that something too heavy to be friendly would be slipped between the bills and other pieces.

"Well," Dom chirped, clapping his hands together, "We'll just have to make sure no one can tell!"

With that, the day turned into a bit of a whirlwind. Many of these big events deteriorated into such, too much going on for (Y/N) to properly focus on one thing at a time.

At least there was a photographer Dom brought along to take photos of the whole process. One more person running around her apartment.

Her hair was the first thing to be started on, the one thing that was going to take the longest. Ensuring everything was perfect, a wash was made to start the day, plenty of products and serums applied before everything was dried and brushed. The natural texture of her strands was altered, her stylist wrapping them around hot and heavy curlers. Earlier in the week at the trial, extensions were added to her hair, adding to the weight on the top of her head. Though she loved the look it would achieve in the end, everything looking effortlessly glamorous with big curls and draping strands, she almost erupted into a migraine from the tension.

At least once the rollers were in, though, she caught a break from her hair stylist. Done was all the tugging and pulling from the various hot tools and hairbrushes, now she could just sit there and concentrate on ensuring her scalp didn't throb before she had a chance to feel pretty.

While the curlers cooled enough to truly curl her hair, her nail tech pulled up a seat beside her. Carlotta was her usual warm self, pleasantly chatting with (Y/N) until a light silence settled between them. Applying and filing her nails were comforting motions, knowing that her set was coming together. It didn't take long for the paint to come out, sparkling pearls to be added to the pastel pink French manicure to match that of her dress. Her fingernails looked every bit like the princess set they had been calling it before Carlotta made her exit for the day, her job done in one go compared to the others that would stick around for final touches.

After a quick break for snacks, her hair was ready to be unraveled and her makeup ready to be applied. The photographer began her closeups then, the camera shuttering as her hair fell in large curls around her face, her makeup artist prepping her skin. Dom periodically checked in, ensuring things were going according to their plan all the while he was coordinating garments and creating problems just to fix them a moment later. Around her, members of the glam team began to pull out their phones, their own cameras trained around the space to document their own experience getting her ready.

(Y/N) sat quietly in the middle of it all, eyes closing when instructed, head tilting when needed, body still in her silken robe.

For hours on end, Harry was like a statue in the corner of the room—silent and stoic. When things began to get hectic, Dom tried to kick him out, only for Harry to ignore the attempts and stay right where he was. He wouldn't be going anywhere no matter how hard Dom tried.

—————

"Everyone out! She needs to get dressed! Everyone out!"

(Y/N) could see Dom was moments away from ripping his hair out, the time making him more than stressed. Styling her hair took longer than expected, draining an additional half an hour from their prep time. Dom timed things meticulously, the schedule written down to the minute to leave her to be on the carpet at a fashionable time—not too early, not too late. This was going to through everything off, and Dom was already feeling it.

The second her hair was finally pinned into place, a layer of hairspray going across the strands to keep anything from moving in any direction, he pulled her into her bedroom where she was to be dressed. Everyone was to be shooed out of her space then, Dom directing them with an agitated tone.

On their way out of the previously quiet room, (Y/N) slipped away from Dom and offered her thanks, hoping they didn't take her stylist's tone too personally. They would still be needed for finishing touches, and she didn't want them stepping out on account of her stylist. Especially since she loved them for their regular services, anyway.

Quietly padding back to her bedroom before Dom became more agitated, Harry became her ghost once more.

"I'll wait outside here for you, okay?" Harry murmured, looking at her with a clear gaze as he stopped in the threshold of her bedroom.

"You don't have to," she told him, lingering in the doorway. She could promise she would be on her best behavior if he needed her to.

Harry shook his head, a curl falling over his forehead. "I'll be here."

With that, she was pulled into her bedroom with the help of Dom's assistant, her grip much more delicate than that of the stylist.

The process of squeezing her into her garments began then. Shapewear and the proper undergarments pulled over her body, her form smoothing with rounded curves. (Y/N) held her breath with every swath of fabric wrapped around her body, more and more of the look piecing together the closer they got.

"Careful," Dom told her, helping her step into the molten pearl of the Vivienne Westwood dress of her dreams. His assistant held the gown with utmost care, ensuring there was no way there could be a rogue crease or an unwanted footstep on the hem.

(Y/N) stayed stagnant, allowing them to zip her into the corset. Dom took over as his assistant began to shoot photos, documenting the way the tight corset adhered to her body. The top was tighter than the original fitting, alterations stiffening the boning and pushing her breasts up high on her chest. Her cleavage was deeper than she ever thought it could be, the swells pushed up and almost spilling over the neckline. The body makeup her artist applied sparkled in the lighting, highlighting the soft parts of her body in a sunny glow. The draping of pearls as her sleeves dripped down her biceps, strategically broken strands having been added during alterations to allow another string to hang down the length of her arms. The high slit was just as scandalous as she remembered, a breeze settling over her bare skin.

She felt gorgeous.

Glancing in the mirror bolted to the wall across from her, she saw the vision come together. Her hair was perfect, bouncy and full, tickling her collarbones with soft brushes. Her dress glimmered like molten pearl on her body, clinging to every curve and edge. Her makeup glittered in the gentle light, delicate sparkles on her eyelids with soft pinks airbrushed across her cheeks and lips. Everything was dewy and light—she looked like a cross between a celestial body and a mermaid inhabiting the waters of a moonlit lagoon.

There was a level of giddiness rising in her knowing that there were going to be countless photos of herself dressed this way. For the first time in a really long time, she looked forward to the torrent of cameras and flashes that would be pointed her way on the Gala carpet.

That serenity didn't last for very long, though, before Dom found another detail to begin to worry over.

"Where is the purse?" he muttered, voice sharp as he rifled through the bag he brought along with him.

"The purse?" his assistant, chirped, stepping back once the proper photographer had rejoined them, his camera flashing to catch (Y/N) in a candid moment.

"Her purse. The purse. The one (Y/N) is supposed to be carrying on the carpet in less than an hour." Dom was seething now.

"It's not in there?"

"If it was, I'd have it already," Dom snapped back, his arms almost elbow deep into his endless bag of everything.

The level of chaos in her apartment ratcheted up a notch in that moment. Now was not the time for something like that to go wrong. Not when—as Dom listed out—finishing adjustments to her makeup needed to be made, final touches to her hair, and someone needed to help her put her shoes on so she didn't bend and crease the dress. Not to mention the photoshoot Dom planned on having (Y/N) partake in before she left for the event, photos to be taken for his portfolio.

"Dom—I can—"

(Y/N) was quickly cut off as he shook his head, his long hair flying around his face. "No, you are not doing anything! Where is everyone?! We don't have time for this."

His assistant scuttled away then, gathering each of the members of her prep group to accomplish each of the things Dom was beginning to fret over.

"Henry—Harris—Whatever your name is, can you please help instead of just standing around?!" Dom shouted through the now cracked door of (Y/N)'s bedroom.

A beat passed before everyone—including Harry—stepped into her room. Carlotta had an extra file in hand, her hair stylist a comb and a bottle of hair spray in his apron pocket, and makeup artist with a gloss in hand. Harry held nothing but a raised brow over the way Dom spoke to him.

Each of the artists and techs descended upon her then, each quietly assessing what needed to be perfected before they were off. (Y/N) didn't have a chance to see what Dom was commissioning Harry to help with before she had to blink her eyes shut, her makeup artist fluffing a brush of glitter on her eyelids.

"Find her bag, and someone put her shoes on, please! We won't have time for pictures if we keep this up!" Dom rattled off, "The event is almost over at this point! Where the fuck is her bag?"

As much as (Y/N) loved Dom, it was moments like these she wondered if the stress of preparing for events was worth it.

Murmured voices of his assistant and a deep voice (Y/N) thought could be Harry, adding to the chatter of the room. The sound of her door creaking happened before the dull roar finally settled.

"(Y/N)?"

Chancing a blink of her eyes open, (Y/N) saw Harry standing before her, just behind her makeup artist, with the box of her Manolo Blahniks in hand.

He met her gaze over the shoulder of the artist swiping more gloss over her lips, his eyes dropping imperceptibly down to her mouth before ringing back up once more.

Before he had a chance to say anything, Dom traipsed back in, his cheeks decidedly redder than before. "Help her with her shoes, we need to go!" he shouted, Harry not even bothering to look back.

He was hesitating—waiting for her permission. There was an unspoken line they'd put in the sand, one that kept each other at arm's length; (Y/N)'s aloofness, and Harry's professionalism the key administers. He wouldn't come any closer if she didn't want him to.

"It's okay," she told him, her makeup artist pausing as her lips moved.

With that, box in hand, Harry wormed his way in-between the various artists and stylists warmed around her. Bending to one knee, he knelt before her with the pristine white box just off to the side. She could feel his eyes on her when he made the first touch, a hand on her ankle. Unwilling to disturb the makeup artist tending to her face, and the stylist primping her hair, (Y/N) wasn't able to meet his eyes despite feeling them trace her face.

The photographer's camera shuttered at a rapid rate, but (Y/N) knew these photos were going to be the kind that stayed in the archive with her.

His thumb grazed the bone in her ankle as she shifted her weight, helping him slip the first cream colored pump onto her foot. The custom pump had a ring of pearls that were to be attached around her ankle. (Y/N) could feel the brush of Harry's fingers over her skin as he latched the stones around her leg, his touch decidedly more gentle than she could have expected from someone who's entire job centered around the rough use of them.

"Let me go grab a setting spray, hold on," her makeup artist murmured, dropping her hands from where they were separating her fluffed lashes and diffusing the color on her eyelids. With that, the woman scurried away, leaving (Y/N) the freedom to finally shift her eyes.

Glancing down, she saw Harry on his knees, a furrow in his brow as he concentrated on helping her balance on the teetering heels. It was like he knew she was watching with the way he peeked up, the fan of his lashes a frame around the green of his eyes. His hand faltered for a split second when she met his gaze.

The rest of the noise melted away for that moment, (Y/N) only taking in just how delicate the shoes looked in comparison to Harry, how gently he was treating her. How pretty he was. She wondered if Dom had ever considered taking Harry on, prepping him for this event instead; he'd fit right in with the models and celebrities that would be on the carpet.

Despite her eyes following his movements, (Y/N) hadn't been paying attention when he had finished slipping her shoe on, the pearls latched around her ankle. She teetered where she stood, a slight gasp leaving her lips.

In an instant, Harry was there, standing to the full of his height in front of her. He steadied her, his grip on her arms firm in his hold but gentle in his touch.

"Alright?" he asked, gaze skipping down her features for just a moment.

(Y/N) almost thought he sounded breathless.

"Yeah," she answered, the word low between the two of them as if there weren't a handful of others around. "Thank you."

Harry only nodded, his hands lingering for a split second longer before they fell away from where he had them on her biceps.

In the back of her mind, she could hear the way the photographer seemed to be capturing every second of the interaction. Camera flashes and the lens shuttering added to the chaos.

The same time Harry was backing away, her makeup artist returned with a glimmering bottle in hand. She was flustered, immediately stepping back into place in front of (Y/N), leaving only a sliver of a view of Harry over her shoulder.

(Y/N) had her eyes glued to him as he approached the entrance to her bedroom, his previous post having been just outside. She saw as he lingered, his head down as he shifted his weight as if he wasn't sure if he wanted to step forward or step back. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.

"Close your eyes for me," her artist instructed.

Hesitating before doing so, (Y/N) just barely caught the way Harry seemed to look back at her.

A loud commotion burst into the room then, (Y/N) flinching where she stood with her eyes closed.

"I found the purse!"

It took a moment for Dom's voice to register. (Y/N) had completely forgotten about the purse.

—————

(Y/N)'s fingers skipped over the pearls dripping down her arms, keeping her gaze forward as they rushed through the New York streets. Beside her, Harry had changed into an all black suit while she was commandeered for photographs at Dom's request. He kept his gaze solely stretched out the window. He hadn't looked at her since that moment in her bedroom, the space between them on the bench seat just a hair larger.

"When would you like me to come for you?" Sully asked, breaking (Y/N) from her over-analysis of how many inches of space was supposed between two people in a working relationship that had also shared a somewhat intimate moment just an hour earlier. At least, (Y/N) thought it was intimate.

She recrossed her legs, shifting in her seat. "Um, I'm not sure," she murmured, noting the way Harry didn't break his staring contest with the window even at this disturbance, "I don't want to say too long, but Francesca will probably want to go to an afterparty."

"Okay, just give me a call about thirty minutes before you're ready. I'll make it as soon as possible, but you know how these places can be."

A smile stretched across her glossy lips as she nodded her head. "Got it. Thank you."

She wondered if Harry knew how many shades of green were in his eyes, if he saw the same tiny blonde hairs threaded through his dark curls that she did. She wondered if he knew how gorgeous he was. She hoped he didn't know that she was still thinking about the way he looked up at her when he was on his knees before.

Despite the sun having set and sunk below the horizon, the city was still bright outside the windows. (Y/N) wondered how many of the other vehicles passing around them were also heading to the Gala.

Peering through the front windscreen, the gallery came into view. The large building that was usually splashed in black and white with 132 on the front in primary colors, had been transformed to allow a tent to be set up up front, shielding the public from the massive red carpet laid out underneath. From here, she could spot the overflow of people, bright lights shining from under the white tent. At least a fourth of that light had to be from the crowd of photographers and publications that had made it inside the event.

Coming to a smooth stop in front of the event, Sully put them in park but didn't make any move to usher her out. From the curb, she could see those set up along the carpet, ready for interviews or photos. She could even see Francesca towards the end, nearest to the entrance.

Her fiddling with the pearls of her dress resumed, anxiety spiking. Her crossed leg swung.

For the first time since leaving her apartment, Harry turned to look at her. His eyes stayed fixed to her face, not daring to skate anywhere else on her body.

"Ready?"

A faux-natural smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Mhm," she hummed, glancing at Sully through the rearview. It was too crowded for him to help her out of the car as usual, she knew that. She would have to settle for a smile through the rearview to settle her through the night. "See you soon?"

"See you soon, sweetheart," he confirmed, his eyes gentle as he met them through the glass.

With that, Harry took his leave first, scooting out of the car with her small purse in tow before reaching back inside to offer her a helping hand out. It felt like a movie the way she could hear the snapping of cameras and dull roar from the event. The shadows around him lengthened, backlit by the fluorescent bulbs.

Rubbing her glossy lips together, she put her hand in his and followed him out onto the sidewalk.

Harry was dropped into his element then second they were faced with the budding crowd waiting to be herded onto the carpet. He had to have been familiar with events like these as he let go of her hand only to place his palm on her upper back, ushering her through the bodies. It was a form of a greenroom that was waiting at the entrance of the carpet, another tent with event coordinators ensuring pacing out the carpet. He didn't let her stop even as some familiar faces gave her small greetings.

Dipping his head down, (Y/N) could feel the tip of his nose brush the draping strands of hair by her ear. "'M going to stay a step behind you the whole time, okay? If at any point you want to be done, jus' look at me and we'll go. I'll be with you."

Drawing away just enough to match his gaze, there was that earnest intensity she'd seen only once before at the pilates studio.

"Okay," she said, giving her head a minute no, unwilling to remove her gaze from his.

With one final push towards the head of the line, (Y/N) could spot the event coordinators clustered around the entrance, earpieces in and tablets at their chests. She watched as they ushered someone onto the carpet—a model she remembered from a trip to Milan, but couldn't place his name—cameras flashing the second he made it to the first pose point.

Harry's hand was a warm weight on her back, grounding her as she forced herself not to pick at her nails or fiddle with her dress as she attempted to sike herself up for her own upcoming turn. From the corner of her eye, she saw one of the familiar coordinators perk up when he spotted her, one of the ones that had been assisting the event for the last handful of years. The coordinator—Monty—brought the lapel of his blazer to his mouth, muttering something into the covert microphone, before (Y/N) felt extra eyes on her.

With a bright smile on his face, Monty pushed their way through the clusters of people, stopping right by she and Harry.

"Ms. (Y/N), how are you this evening? You look gorgeous," Monty greeted her, his eyes obviously shifting from her gown to the petite pearl bag in Harry's hands. His brow raised just that much more at the sight.

"Thank you so much, Monty," she bubbled, knowing the version of herself he would be expecting and slipping into that role, "How are you? Busy, I'm sure."

"You have no idea," he exaggerated, the words ending with a boisterous laugh (Y/N) joined in on. "Are you ready to walk?"

"As ready as I can be," (Y/N) offered, shaking her head as she gestured down to her shoes, "Didn't get a chance to break in my shoes at all, and you know how the Vivienne corsets can be."

"We'll get you through as fast as possible, then," Monty laughed, smiling a little too bright, "You know, when we got your RSVP, we made sure to stock the bar extra just for you."

It was meant to be a joke, she knew that, a rib at the way she was apparently always drunk whenever she went out. She was sure it was supposed to be something meant to entice her into being that much more excited to get the carpet over. Nonetheless, she couldn't help the way she wanted to roll her eyes and huff a sigh.

Still, she laughed along, leaning forward as if she were doubling over in laughter. The photographers ate it up. "You know me so well," she told Monty, taking in a deep breath, "Thank you."

Casting a look towards the carpet, Monty double checked his tablet before he looked at her with a mild smile. "Ready to go?"

Following his gaze, the patrons in front of her had dwindled down to none, leaving her the next on the chopping block.

Feeling a tad bit stiff after the last interaction, (Y/N) still nodded her head. "Of course."

Harry was a silent pillar beside her as they followed after Monty. She wished she knew what he was thinking.

A beat passed, Monty waiting for a cue, then he looked to (Y/N) with that practiced smile. "Go ahead, Ms. (Y/N). I'll see you in there."

(Y/N) waved her goodbye, stepping carefully into the mouth of the event, the carpet shifting under her feet into something luxurious and soft. At her back, Harry stepped up.

"I'll be right behind you," he murmured, a quiet reminder, before the chaos erupted.

No doubt the media recognized who was at her back, cameras fluttering with flashes burning her gaze. She smiled effortlessly, stopping to pose and look in whatever direction she was called. She stood out against the stark white and deep black of the carpet, the attendees meant to be the color in the gallery for the night. Around her, others were posted up giving their own poses to the cameras facing them, some having brought friends or dates to chat with in between.

(Y/N) hoped she would see Francesca or Emma soon.

Traipsing through the carpet, (Y/N) stopped and pose at ever juncture instructed, blowing kisses and showing off her gown at every stop. As nervous as she was to have so many eyes on her—many wanting some kind of slip up to be able to report on—it couldn't knock how excited she was to have herself immortalized in a look like this. That couldn't take away how pretty she felt.

Harry was a silent soldier behind her, never wavering as the hall had shouting photographers, shuttering cameras, and chatter from the various attendees. He followed her carefully, a delicate pink bag hanging from his hands that were clasped at his front. He stayed far enough away to ensure every shot only captured her, but close enough she could turn to face him and give him whatever signal was needed to get out of there.

Going down the carpet, (Y/N) grew used to the feel of eyes all over her, beginning to revel in the way her body and look was being appreciated by the attendees. While she didn't love the sound of her name being shouted across the carpet, she didn't mind when it meant she was going to be posing for a photo that she would be happy to see floating around the internet.

Scaling the plush staircase trailing further down the carpet, the mass of the photographers thinned leaving only a few here and there to snap the final photos before guests were led into the gallery, with a few publications waiting for a moment to catch an interview. Scanning the few, (Y/N) tried to spot the one interview she was scheduled to make for the night.

Catching sight of a bright blonde head of hair, (Y/N) inched towards her hoping the woman was who she thought it was. It took a moment for the interviewer to turn around, the strands of ultra straight blonde hair fanned around her familiar face. Relief hit (Y/N), then—she didn't have to stand in the middle of everything hoping someone noticed her and gave direction.

"Hi, (Y/N), how are you?" The interviewer, Gwen, greeted her with a bright smile, leaning over to give her a light hug around their immaculate gowns.

Noting the camera that was definitely still recording, (Y/N) ensured her own tabloid smile was fixed to her face, her voice pitched and pleasant. "I'm doing well, thank you! You look amazing, Gwen," (Y/N) bubbled, stepping back to admire the embellishments on the gown.

She wasn't surprised, really. Gwen was the yearly reporter for the major fashion magazine that sponsored half of the attendees at the event. They were one of the few legitimate publications that printed stories about her and reached out for articles about her looks or to be featured in segments on their website—even if there were hate comments flooded on her features.

Starting off like the rest of the interviews that had been conducted that night, Gwen asked who she was wearing and rattled off questions about the inspiration behind her gown. (Y/N) answered pleasantly, attributing everything to the collaborative effort with her stylist and the handful of others that helped her prep for the night. Standing just off camera, Harry stayed back but she could feel his eyes on her as she spoke with Gwen.

More than once did Gwen's eyes shift from where (Y/N) stood, peeking over her shoulder to find her bodyguard. (Y/N) hated to think what she might be assuming at that moment, the kinds of questions that might be swirling. Tomorrow, when all of the analyses of this moment were circulated through the public, she was sure people would assume that there was something more going on in the moment, that Harry was doing something just off screen that would somehow confirm that he was her affair partner and secret boyfriend.

"But, yeah, we wanted something classic for the hair, but it definitely took a lot more time to get there than it looks," (Y/N) ended, brushing those stray strands out of her face.

Waiting for the next question to come, (Y/N) saw the way Gwen tossed a glance towards the producer that was standing behind the camera. Something was exchanged in that look.

Keeping the energy up, Gwen turned back to (Y/N) with her practiced smile. "While I have you here, (Y/N), we do have to ask," she said, lowering her head with a glint in her eye as if she were just a girl friend gossiping over brunch, "We see you've brought a guest with you tonight, can you share with us who that is?"

She was definitely fishing, trying to glean something out of the interaction. Even magazines like this couldn't be completely free from rumors and gossip, she guessed.

Staying in character, bubbly and bright, (Y/N) looked behind her with a giggle. (Another scene that was going to be overanalyzed, edited and clipped to show the "truth"). Waving to him to step forward, she hoped Harry would play along for just a couple of minutes. Hesitant, Harry took a careful step forward, inching into the view of the camera with her purse swinging in his grip.

"This is Harry," she bubbled off, gesturing to him as he gave a reserved smile to the camera before tipping his head down so as to not garner any more attention, "I know he's been pictured with me a lot recently, but he's just my bodyguard. I think there's been a few different stories floating around, but that's the truth."

Gwen paused for a second, certainly rattled by the soft denial she was given for details. In an attempt to recover from the fishing, she joked, "And, is that your purse or his he's got?"

"His, but he let me borrow it for the night," (Y/N) played along, hoping Harry wouldn't mind taking ownership over the mini beaded bag in his grip.

Gwen joined in her laughter, sounding a little more than exaggerated with the way she reached out to grab (Y/N)'s arm as if to steady herself.

"Well," she started once recovering, "it was so much fun talking with you, (Y/N). We'll see you inside."

"I'll see you inside, Gwen," (Y/N) reciprocated, giving another small hug as a goodbye.

"Hopefully, we'll both be at the same afterparty—I'd love a chance to see you let loose," Gwen laughed.

"Right," (Y/N) answered with a peal of laughter, stepping out with a wave as Gwen's next interviewee was set to step up to the plate.

Taking in a deep breath and shaking out her hands, (Y/N) was grateful to be out of view of any cameras. Only a stitch remained off the carpet before she would be ushered into the event, but there was a moment of reprieve in this moment.

Close behind, Harry stepped up beside her, his eyes clear when he matched hers. "Alright?"

"Yeah," she breathed, fluttering her lashes with a shake of her head to get the stray hairs from her updo out of her face, "I didn't expect anyone to ask about that. Sorry."

"'S okay," he murmured, scanning over her features, "Want to wait a second before we go in?"

(Y/N) nodded her head with a mumbled yeah. Harry didn't push her as she lingered in that space in-between, allowing her space as she calmed her rattled nerves. It wasn't until she heard the sound of others approaching, more people to clock her with her shaking hands and stressed demeanor, that she decided she was ready to move on.

"Let's go," she murmured, eyes downcast as she spared a few more moments before she was to be on again.

"Y'sure?" Harry checked, reaching his hand out to hover between her shoulder blades. All he needed was the reaffirming nod from her before he was helping to usher her inside.

The hosts of the event were the first to greet her as they stepped into the gallery, familiar faces (Y/N) had seen year after year. Harry's hand on her back was warm and weighty, keeping her on track as he took the blame to usher her through the interactions as soon as she received their seating tickets and were wished a good evening. She was grateful for him getting her through, still feeling a little bit too exposed after that interview.

Entering into the gallery space that had been renovated for the event to feature round dinner tables and a stage for the hosts and donors to be honored for the night. Matching the carpet out front, everything was left as black and white, the guests being the splashes of color as if they were the artworks for the night. The decor came in the same monotone hues only the cocktails and drinks breaking up the greys on the table.

"Did they seat you with me?" (Y/N) asked, passing Harry his ticket for the night.

Giving the paper a small glance, Harry kept most of his attention on getting her through the clusters of people standing about. "Think so," he murmured, a furrow on his brow.

Peering over the large curls on her head, Harry guided her through, finding their table. Lucky for her, despite being a bit later than she had scheduled, her father and his associates hadn't arrived yet. That allowed her to peek at the seating chart, lips thinning when she saw she'd be at her father's side through the night.

"Can I have my bag?" (Y/N) asked, looking at Harry just a step behind her. He didn't hesitate to pass off her tiny purse. Still embarrassed by what happened on the carpet and thinking about the dull way he confirmed he'd been seated next to her, (Y/N) bit at her bottom lip before turning towards him. "It's okay if you don't want to stay tonight. I know this stuff is really boring, so if you'd rather—"

"No. We've been over this," Harry said, his voice stern as he matched her gaze, "Wherever you are, I am."

While she knew this was all a part of his job—his following of her, his determination—there was something that bubbled behind her ribs. Even if there was no other reason he would spend time with her, at least there was someone always at her side; she wasn't going to be alone in these moments as long as Harry was there.

"Okay," she nodded, biting back a smile. Peeking over his shoulder, (Y/N) spotted Emma and Francesca settled around their own table, chatting away while others breezed past their table with small greetings. "I think I'm going to go talk to my friends before my dad gets here, but you can go get a drink or something if you want. If anyone asks for any payment or anything, just say it's on me."

While she knew there was a high possibility that he wasn't going to take her up on the offer, he only nodded at her before she was sending off towards the girls.

Growing closer to their court, (Y/N) could see Stavros at Emma's side, with Francesca thankfully alone—it was always a good day when she didn't bring some billionaire or to come hang out in hopes of commandeering his yacht for the weekend. They had leaned close together, chatting over the table while Stavros absently stroked his hand up and down Emma's arm, his gaze shimmering as he gazed at her profile.

Franny was the first to spot her approach, her gaze lifting and posture straightening. "(Y/N)!" she cheered, Emma turning in her seat with a matching smile, "You finally made it!"

"You look gorgeous," Emma gushed, her own glimmering dress surely a Stavros original.

"Thank you," (Y/N) smiled, taking a free chair at Emma's side to slip into the conversation, "You guys look so pretty, too."

At that, Emma couldn't seem to help herself before launching into the origin story of her dress, introducing Stavros and his genius mind as the one behind her high couture sheath dress. Francesca had clearly already heard this tale, her gaze checked out as she pulled her phone from her purse.

"Did you bring anyone, (Y/N)?" Emma pressed, no doubt having already seen Harry at her table and fishing for more information.

Shaking her head, (Y/N) felt the ends of her hair tickling her collarbones. "No, just Harry."

"Just Harry?"

A smile spread across her cheeks at Emma's prodding. "Just Harry," she parroted, unwavering despite Emma's tease. Turning to Francesca, (Y/N) shifted the conversation, "Has your mom called again since she visited?"

It only took a roll of Fran's eyes to tell (Y/N) everything she needed to know. "It's not if she's called, it's how many times."

With that Francesca started on the epic that was the amount of phone calls, FaceTimes, and voicemails left on her phone with her mom still insistent that being a gallery owner is all her daughter could ever want. Following along and allowing her laughter to flow freely, (Y/N) slipped into herself as she sat with her friends. Seeing the event photographer fluttering about the tables, she was grateful that this moment could be forever immortalized—a time she felt like herself with her best friends.

Unfortunately, also from her peripheral, she could spot her father and his friends having seated themselves at their table. His showmanship in terms of his boisterous laughter that had to be at a volume just higher than the rest of the crowd was what gave him away. Harry was also seated though he was decidedly less interested in the conversation than the rest of the table, his gaze shifting to where she sat more often than not.

(Y/N) couldn't help but to scoot in further to her borrowed table, despite knowing that she was only pushing off the inevitable. She was going to have to speak to her father anyway, especially with her place setting residing next to him. Nonetheless, she preferred to put it off as long as possible. She was having a good time at this point, no reason to cut it short.

Being spared only a handful more minutes, (Y/N) knew she couldn't steal this spot forever when she saw one of the hosts start making rounds before edging towards the stage. She was sure the rightful owner of this spot was waiting for her to leave, anyway.

Finding a pause in the conversation, she began to stand with a careful hand ensuring the slit in her dress didn't open too wide. "I'd better go sit down, guys. I think everything's starting soon."

Francesca gave her a pout. "You'll come see us after dinner?"

"Of course; you think I'm going to stay over there all night?"

Both Fran and Emma let out a laugh, Stavros awkwardly joining in despite most likely needing a translation of what she said from his girlfriend.

Sharing quiet goodbyes, (Y/N) pasted a smile on her face as she made her way back to her own table. At some point she must not have caught, Harry had gotten up and was now returning with a couple of glasses of water in his hands. She watched as he placed them beside their individual plates then took the spot beside her father. A pinch took her brow.

Their table was full of exclusively her father's friends: two men she recognized from the country club, one of their wives, and Harry. The rearrangement would leave her to sit between Harry and the man's wife, a step removed from her father. Not that she was complaining, though.

Without missing a step, (Y/N) approached the round table with her hands folded in front of her, tiny bag on her wrist. The sound of her heels clacking over the floor was muffled under the dull roar of the chattering ballroom.

Silently, she took her rearranged spot. Scooting in, no one acknowledged her, her father instead holding court as usual. At least here, he was one of many important fish, so she didn't have to deal with people fawning over his facade.

Peering at the name cards she had spotted before, (Y/N) saw her's and Harry's cards had been swapped. Harry had been stationed at the table the whole time, she couldn't imagine anyone had a moment—even her father—to move the places around without him noticing.

Eventually, just as she was about to pull out her phone and do anything to entertain herself, she heard her name come from her father's mouth. "You look nice, sweetie" he complimented, his investor meeting smile lighting up his features.

"Thank you," she answered, her own features arranged in a practiced expression, "You look nice, too."

Just like that, he moved on, replacing his attention to now land on Harry. It was a replay of the day at the country club, another round of praises being offered to her "handler" and all the amazing work he's done for (Y/N). Tuning it all out, she instead focused on the ice in her water glass, smiling when she heard a laugh around the table and zoning out otherwise.

It wasn't until there was another joke made at (Y/N)'s expense, that she was brought back to the surface with a discreet brush of a hand against her knee. Blinking back into the moment, she saw Harry looking at her, ignoring whatever else was going on.

"Alright?" he murmured, eyes flittering about her features, "Do y'want me to get you a drink?"

The beginnings of a smile touched at the corner of her lips, her mouth going lopsided with her lipgloss glittering in the light. "I'm okay, but thank you," she muttered.

If she was being honest, she was on the brighter side of okay in that second. It was nice seeing someone ignore her dad for once and offer her some attention.

Harry only gave her a quiet nod before seamlessly slipping back into the conversation. Her attention followed him, watching the way he interacted very differently than only a couple weeks prior at the country club.

He was stiff in where he sat, features closer to a flat mask than the more languid expressions she was used to seeing him give her father. His jaw was tight, his forearms coming to rest on the lip of the table, his hands an inflexible bundle over the fine china of his plate. He was taking up space, shoulders broad and eyes solid. Following his line of sight, she saw him fixed on the man sitting at her father's other side.

(Y/N) only recognized him from the country club, specifically during her last visit a couple of weeks back. He wasn't notable by any means, but he was one of the couple that spared her a lingering glance even when her father was promoting Harry to the rest of the table.

Maybe, he was the reason Harry was in such a rotten mood when he met her in the maze. One of the few times she wished she had stuck around her father's drinking table, if only to know why Harry was insistent on shooting this man daggers.

"Right, Harry?" her father jested, most likely looking for Harry's confirmation to a deprecating joke at (Y/N)'s expense.

Blinking in the direction of the man, Harry barely spared a glance to her father.

"Right," he deadpanned.

It was the expression on her father's face, obviously thrown off by the lack of enthusiasm on Harry's part, that had her hiding her smile behind a sip from her glass of ice water.

Perhaps this dinner wouldn't be so bad.

—————

With dinner plates cleared and trays of mini desserts being distributed throughout the room, (Y/N) took her first chance at escape.

Others had started milling about, socializing with drinks in hand before the afterparties that would no doubt last well into the night. It was easy to slip within the masses, the wife of one of her father's friends being one of the only that could have spotted her disappearance. The men at the table were too distracted to even acknowledge her mumbled excusal to go to the restroom—including Harry, even if half of his attention was still placed on the sharp looks he was giving to the man across from him.

Emma and Francesca happily welcomed her back to their table, a couple of other girls they occasionally clubbed with also having pulled up a chair. From where she sat, she could still spot her father's table, his back facing her. She was able to relax then, feeling comfortable around her friends, even when she spotted the photographer from earlier meandering through the tables once more with the camera to his eye.

They bubbled over the surprise performance over dinner, an impromptu concert from one of the celebrities in attendance, with (Y/N) hoping they ended up at the same afterparty as her so she could get a chance to ask who designed her gown. Francesca shared the person she now had her eyes on, a man she recognized from touring galleries with her mom who was now seated only a few tables away. He was an artist, she decided, way more romantic than any guy with a yacht. Emma and Stavros were very much ready to head to the afterparties with the way they could barely finish a sentence before sealing their lips together.

"I'm going to go get a drink, do you guys want anything?" (Y/N) asked, standing from her spot with her tiny purse hanging from her wrist.

Chatters of denial spread over the table, many of the girls having their own drinks or refraining until the afterparties. (Y/N) shot them a smile before turning on her heel and making her way towards the bar.

The bartender was busy lacing together elaborate themed cocktails for the string of other patrons waiting, leaving (Y/N) to lean against the counter, arms folded on the bartop. She watched the show, enthralled with the mixing of ingredients while in wait.

Suddenly, she felt a hand touch the small of her back, the boning of her corset stiffening against her skin. (Y/N) jumped where she stood, her breath coming up short. Turning to face whoever spooked her, she recoiled when she saw it was the man that Harry had been shooting daggers at across the table.

He didn't even look at her as he flagged down the bartender, raising his voice to call across the long bar. (Y/N) stood there, her brain a little too muddled as she watched him speak over her to order a duo of drinks.

All of her father's friends sucked, but never once has any of them so blatantly disrespected her in public like this. He couldn't wait a few more minutes to get his whiskey and gin and tonic?

(Y/N) started to pull away then, shaking off his hand as she slunk away from his hovering body. He didn't let her get very far, his hand flexing on her back as he stepped along with her.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he said, a megawatt smile on his face, "I saw you standing here alone and figured it was my chance to finally talk to you."

"Oh," she sounded, unsure of what to say. More than anything at the moment, she was now annoyed that there was another order before hers, just wanting her cranberry juice-heavy cosmo in her hand.

"I'm Barron," he told her, dipping his head down as if it was loud enough he needed to whisper in her ear.

"Nice to meet you," she smiled, her expression practiced, "I'm (Y/N)."

"I know," he flirted. (Y/N) swore her eye could have twitched.

Just in time, the bartender reached over with a whiskey on the rocks and a crystalline gin and tonic. "Here you are, sir," the bartender smiled, placing both drinks on coasters in front of Barron.

Thankfully, he removed his hand from her back to lean across the bar, relaying the tab information, his voice a little too boastful when spelling out his last name. (Y/N) felt she could breathe easier almost as soon as his hand left her form. Now was her chance: order her drink, and get back to her girls as soon as possible.

Instead, she saw as the bartender stepped away, relaying back to his previous customers as Barron passed the gin and tonic towards (Y/N). "Here you go, sweetheart."

Though she was startled, (Y/N) kept her practiced smile on as she stepped back just enough. "No, thank you. I was actu—"

"I insist," he cut her off, speaking above her with another push of the drink and coaster towards her. His hand returned to her back, caging her in with her front still against the bar. This time, he pressed his palm against the bare skin of her back, his fingers dipping low underneath the scoop of her corset. Unpleasant goosebumps erupted over her skin. "Your dad said you would need someone to keep an eye on you tonight, and I can see your bodyguard is a little busy at the moment. I can take care of this for you instead."

Her jaw felt tight. Peering over his shoulder, she was able to spot Harry sat with his back facing the bar, just as she left him with her father.

"Well," she started, chest expanding as she pulled in a deep breath, "Thank you for the drink. My friends are waiting for me, but it was nice to actually meet you."

Expecting his hand to fall from her, (Y/N) attempted to make her exit. Instead she was offered a stronger grip, his arm a bar across her back. "At least let me talk to you," he laughed, as if he couldn't believe she was trying to slip away, "I got you a drink, I think that's only fair, right?"

"Oh, I mean," she floundered, reciprocating with a polite laugh, "I should probably get back, though. After I got a drink we were planning on leaving for some afterparties, so."

He barked out a laugh, bringing his whiskey to his lips as he took in a deep sip. The ice clinked within the glass as she shook his head. "You know, your dad did say you were a bit feisty, but I didn't think you'd be like this."

Shifting her weight, (Y/N) would have done next to anything to crawl away from this moment. She didn't like the idea of him asking about her to her father; she dreaded to think what kind of stories were told or publications discussed that could have brought up the topic of her being "feisty".

From the corner of her eye, she spotted the photographer meandering close by. All it would take was a slight struggle, a slight raising of voices, and that camera would no doubt be up to his eye with a high definition photo of the moment splashed across the internet by the end of the night. That wasn't even taking into account the amount of cell phones around the room that could be trained in their direction in a moment's notice.

As annoying as this man was and how much she was itching to leave her skin over his touch, fighting him further wasn't going to be worth the scene it would cause. Especially not with her father right there; it would be too easy for this man—his friend—to turn this whole thing around on her without any argument from her father.

All she could do was hope Francesca or any of the other girls noticed she was missing for longer than it could possibly take to grab a drink.

"Come sit with me," Barron commanded, urging her to roll underneath his arm so he could guide her to a nearby table with vacant chairs. Swallowing, (Y/N) followed along, her smile tight. "Don't forget your drink."

Her smile grew that much tighter over his words.

The chilled glass was slick against her palm.

Barron pushed her into a seat, his hand finally leaving her skin and leaving an overly hot point on her body. Sinking into her chair, (Y/N) tried to create as much space as she could between them, even with the way he leant across the space to enter her bubble. Her hand clenched around the gin and tonic glass.

"See, not so bad, is it?" Barron teased, taking another sip of his quickly draining glass.

"Right," (Y/N) let out a humorless laugh, "So, how do you know my dad?"

This was a trick she learned to get these men off her back. They loved nothing more than to talk about themselves and the things they thought deemed them important. Barron seemed all too excited to talk about his business prowess that led him to her father's "inner circle", surely exaggerating the amount of acquisitions he headed to get him where he was.

"But, I can't lie," he said, lowering his voice and smirking at her, "I told him I wanted to meet you a month ago, and we've started talking a lot more since. He told me you were having some troubles, and I had a feeling I might be able to help you."

Reaching across, Barron settled his too warm hand on her knee, his fingertips denting into the soft flesh of her thigh.

(Y/N) felt her chest tighten at the touch, the way he looked at her over the rim of his glass, as if he were doing her a favor. She was sure he thought she should be grateful to feel his hand on her skin, like this was the first step to getting her through her troubles.

Her grip around her glass tightened.

What was she supposed to do now?

She felt trapped. He scooted closer to her over the floor, his hand sliding over her thigh. He even stuck his foot out, playing footsie as if she looked open to flirting.

Swallowing, she let out a strained laugh, bringing her glass to her lips for no other reason than to buy herself a moment's reprieve.

She couldn't decipher what would be worse: staying in this situation or causing a scene that would no doubt have her father locking her down in a remote cabin for the winter?

With the amount of cameras in the room, if she flipped the way her bubbling anxiety urged her to, there was no doubt the last vestiges of her reputation would be burned to the ground. Everything was bad enough already, but there would be no recovery from a documented outburst like the one she could feel brewing.

A forced laugh fell from her lips, "I guess you could say that." Glancing through the room, she tried to spot Harry. Maybe, he had miraculously turned around and could see what was happening. If she caught his eye, he could put a stop to this.

He told her all she needed was to look at him, and he would be right there. He could take her away from this. He told her—promised her.

Suddenly, she felt that overly-hot hand that had been on her leg pinch her chin. Barron redirected her strayed attention, forcing her to look right at his smug face.

"Eyes on me when I'm speaking, babygirl. It's respectful."

If not for the fact she was close to having an anxiety attack, (Y/N) could only imagine the amount of rage she would feel at his condescending words.

Instead, all she could feel was his hand too close to her throat, the absolute view of his eyes he was forcing on her. Her skin felt too hot, though she swore goosebumps were rising. Her stomach churned, the corset feeling way too tight around her lungs.

"Sorry," she swallowed, almost choking around the word though she could tell he didn't even notice.

In as casual of a way as she could muster, she pushed his hand off of her chin, disguising it as a move to flip her hair over her shoulder. Barron instead settles his hand on her shoulder, fingering the pearls draping over her skin.

"Good," he said, seemingly pleased with her feigned obedience, "I want to hear about you, though."

"What do you want to know?" she forced out through a high smile.

Her heart jumped into her throat, clogging her airways with every brush of his fingers over her skin. She was on the verge of a panic attack.

One of the only times she ever would have wanted a bodyguard and he's not even here. If her father could shut up for two seconds, Harry could have done the job he was hired for.

Instead, (Y/N) was left with a pit in her stomach, something that she swore could eat through her dress and absorb her as if it were nothing. How was she supposed to breathe when her organs had to make way for the blackhole in her stomach? How was she supposed to think clearly when her instincts urged her to move along, with nothing else managing to make an impression on her brain?

This man was pushing her too far. He was touching her too much, looking at her too closely, talking too loudly.

She needed him to stop. She could barely feel her hands, her toes, her lips. No amount of air in her lungs was enough.

(Y/N) hadn't even realized Barron was talking until his voice was cut off. A decidedly gentler hand settled on her opposing shoulder.

"There you are!" Francesca greeted, bending down to (Y/N)'s level with her eyes widening just enough when she made eye contact, "I'm about to head to the bathroom, could you come with me?"

Without a second thought, (Y/N) released her chokehold grip on the gin and tonic, looking Barron in the eye as she took in the first semi-normal breath in the last handful of minutes. "Sorry, I'll be right back."

Francesca took (Y/N)'s hand in her own, scurrying to the bathroom in record time. Stepping over the tile floor of the single stall restroom, (Y/N) felt a tingle in her hands, her gaze unable to focus while Francesca locked the door behind them.

"Hey, what's going on?" Fran questioned, stepping behind her with a cautious hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

All it took was a flutter of (Y/N)'s lashes and a stuttered breath before everything she was holding back spilled over. A whimper sliced from her throat, her vision blurring.

"(Y/N)?"

Spinning on her heel, she couldn't help the way she braced herself against her best friend, Francesca collecting her into a hug as if she might collapse at a moment's notice.

"I-I don't know," (Y/N) cried, tears slipping down her cheeks, "I—Fran—I'm—Thank you."

Nothing falling from her lips made much sense, everything too mushy and half-baked as she sputtered. She didn't know how to articulate how uncomfortable Barron was making her feel; how much she wanted to crawl out of her skin, how she felt trapped, how she knew what he did wasn't all that bad—even compared to her own experiences—but she swore she hadn't felt so unsafe since that night with Damien Moore. How was she supposed to get all of that out between gasping breaths and tingling lips?

Francesca was her pillar at the moment, keeping (Y/N) upright as she held her. "Okay, it's okay," she tried to soothe her, despite her own voice wavering, "I didn't even know, (Y/N). I'm sorry. I would have helped you sooner, if I had."

"It's okay, it's okay," (Y/N) parroted, sniffling, "I-I think my dad told him to talk to me."

Francesca muttered something under her breath, which sounded a lot like a string of curse words though (Y/N) hoped it was actually a hex against her father.

After tightening her hug, Francesca began to pull away from (Y/N)'s melting form. "I'm going to be right back," she told her earnestly, "I'm going to grab my bag and call my driver, and we're going to leave, okay? Your dad isn't even going to know."

"Okay, okay," (Y/N) repeated in a broken voice, nodding her head, "Thank you."

Francesca left with a concerned look over her shoulder.

Circling the drain, (Y/N) couldn't stop pacing around the bathroom, the clack of her heels echoing in her ears. Her mind was running way too fast to keep up. There was no focus she could give to anything when she swore her corset was strangling her. The spots that Barron's slimy hands touched her dirty, gross and sticky in a way only the longest shower could hope to erase. Her head was too muddy, swimming too far away, for anything to make sense.

Striking through it all, she remembered her father was out there.

God, she was going to be in so much trouble. There was no way she could talk herself out of this one, and with how fragile she felt at the moment, she couldn't imagine making it through a scolding of his like she usually did. Not like this.

What if he blamed Harry, even? What if Harry was roped into her orbit of trouble, being blamed for the fact she had a breakdown in one of the most inconvenient places? Her father would no doubt reject the fact that he was the reason behind Harry's distraction.

The idea made (Y/N) crumble that much more. These were her problems, and now Harry might be held accountable for the fact she couldn't suck it up over a couple of lingering touches and condescending words. As if she didn't know how to handle it already.

Memories of this man's hands on her body—along with a quick montage of others in his place before, including Damien Moore—were a thick ocean in (Y/N)'s head. The illusions were only cut with the scolds of her father, lists of things she'd done wrong and could never recover from.

Through the depths, she could hear distant voices. They were having a muffled argument on the other side of the door, that much she could collect. Every other detail was lost at sea, (Y/N) too busy crumbling by the sink with her breathing too short to be good for her health.

Suddenly, the voices were much closer, a firm tone telling their partner that "I need to see her, let me in!" She knew she recognized that voice, that firm tone and grumbling accent. (Y/N) knew who was on the other side of the door, but nothing could properly register in her head.

The door burst open a second later (or it could have been a handful of minutes, time wasn't real in the moment to her). Both Harry and Francesca tumbled through, Harry's brow furrowed and eyes hard while Fran's were boiling in anger.

"(Y/N), I tried to tell him to—"

Francesca's voice filtered through the bathroom, though (Y/N) only saw the way Harry assessed the situation. His cool demeanor never wavered as he catalogued the crumbling mess that made her up. The only thing that gave away the fact that this was out of the norm of his routine was the furrow to his brows and determination setting his jaw.

Taking broad steps over the tile, Harry met her by the sink, his hands gathering hers from where they were fumbling and picking at her middle.

"Hey, hey," he murmured, his voice somehow louder to her than Francesca's in the background of the moment, "Why aren't y'breathing, (Y/N)? What's going on?"

"I-I want to leave, Harry, I don't want to be here anymore," she rushed out, her tongue tripping over itself with salty tears traced the shape of her lips. "I don't w-want him to touch me again, I want to go home."

A tick appeared in Harry's jaw. "Okay," he nodded, features composed as he slipped his hands out from hers to settle them on the curve of her waist. Before (Y/N) could have any kind of reaction to the touch, Harry was lifting her to sit on the edge of the sink, the slit in her dress splitting to reveal one full leg with the other still draped in the silken material. "Before we can do that, I need you to breathe with me. Okay?"

"I-I can't," she whined, the tenor of her voice echoing in the otherwise silent room. From the corner of her eye, she could see the silhouette of Francesca paces away, quietly watching on.

"Okay," Harry soothed, his hands taking hers once more, "But I need you to try. We can't go anywhere until you try."

The idea that she would have to stay here even a moment longer made (Y/N) choke up even more. How could he ask her to do the impossible like this? She just wanted to leave and Harry was making her stay here, pressuring her to breathe as if he thought she could actually manage that.

"Harry," she cried, her voice broken.

He shook his head, a stray curl falling from his tousled head of hair. "Just for a minute, yeah? Then we'll leave, I promise."

When he didn't dare to break the eye contact he was making with her, (Y/N) couldn't do anything but nod her head to his wishes.

"Copy me," he instructed, taking in a deep through his nose, holding, then exhaling through his nose. When he didn't see (Y/N) doing the same, he repeated, "Gotta copy me, (Y/N)." A pulse of his hands around hers gained her attention.

"Okay," she peeped, nodding with jerky movements.

Another round of structured breathing came from Harry, his chest expanding with his perfect lips forming an "o" when exhaling. (Y/N) copied him as best she could, her chest straining against her corset and her lips feeling sticky with tears when she blew out. Harry stuck with her even when her lungs stuttered and she sobbed through the exercise. It wasn't until she was able to make five full breaths in a row that Harry relented in his pressing.

"Feel a little better?" he asked, eyes searching her face.

(Y/N) took stock of her state, noting the tingling in her fingers and toes had relented, leaving only the aches of a panic lingering in her body. Her head felt a little bloated and her chest tight, but she was doing world's better than she was only a handful of minutes earlier—even if that wasn't a necessarily hard bar to cross.

She nodded.

Using his gentle grip on her hands, Harry guided her off the counter, steadying her back onto her heels. (Y/N) had her eyes on her feet, watching the sparkling of her shoes against the immaculate tile of the floor. She really, really, really hoped tonight wouldn't ruin these shoes for her.

Stepping back into (Y/N)'s line of sight, Francesca looked just as concerned as when she had left the first time. Her purse was now in hand with her phone clutched between her fingers. "Let's go back to my place, okay? I can make sure my driver can be here in five minutes, then we'll leave and we don't have to talk to anyone else."

Francesca reached out a friendly hand, intending to take her from Harry's hold and back to her like they planned before he tumbled into the bathroom. (Y/N) didn't even realize that she was shying away from her best friend until she felt Harry's hand settle on the top of her back with his arm curling around her.

"Fran—I—," she floundered, unsure of where her voice went but not trying to find it, "I want to stay with him, I'm sorry."

Though (Y/N) expected hurt to touch Fran's features, she instead only saw a look of surprise raise her brows and widen her eyes. "That's okay," Francesca reassured her, "Don't be sorry. Just text me when you get home, okay?"

"Okay," (Y/N) nodded, her hair tickling her bare skin.

Taking a tentative step forward, Francesca held her arms out. "Can I hug you before you leave?"

(Y/N) didn't say anything before she collected her friend in a clumsy hug, cheek against her shoulder with their hair creating a mess.

"I'm sorry, Fran," (Y/N) repeated in a hoarse whisper.

"Why are you sorry, don't be sorry," Francesca reminded her, "I just want you to feel safe, that's all." Pulling away, Fran matched her gaze, a soft smile falling on her mocha lined lips. "You look so hot tonight, so you better still post pics."

It was the way Francesca looked at her so earnestly as if what she was saying was just as important as solidifying her plans to make it home, that had (Y/N) spilling with a huff of laughter. "I will," she sniffled, her cry-swollen mouth, "Love you."

"Love you, too."

Francesca parted with her after another squeezing hug, (Y/N) turning to find Harry with his eyes on the ground waiting for her. He peeked at her through the fan of his lashes, noticing her eye on him once more.

"Ready?"

All it took was (Y/N) nodding her head before she was reaching for Harry once more, allowing him to take her under his arm and bundle her to his side.

"We're going to have to fast, okay?" he murmured to her as he pushed the door to the bathroom open, Francesca lingering in the restroom.

"Okay," (Y/N) repeated, staying still as he peered around the secluded hallway in search of anyone else lurking around the space.

Once he determined everything was clear, he started her in the direction of the ballroom. (Y/N) stiffened under his arm. Her father was out there. So was Barron. And over a hundred cell phone cameras and a trained photographer with a high quality camera for moments just like these.

"I know," he crooned to her, the tip of his nose brushing her hair from where she had her eyes trained on the ground, "But 's the only way to get out. There's a back way, we jus' need to get through by the bar, then we'll be alone again. I promise."

As much as she wanted to stop in her tracks, hide a little while longer, she allowed Harry to guide her steps down the hall. If this was the only way out, she was going to have to endure.

The dull roar of the Gala filled every space in her body the second they stepped back under the chandelier light of the ballroom. (Y/N) kept her head down, hoping that if she caught anyone's eye, she could at least spare herself the humility of them catching her ruined makeup and swollen eyes. She clutched Harry's hand cupped around her waist. Her anchor.

Harry guided them through the space, dodging most of the crowd as he took a swift turn, (Y/N) doing her best to stay steady on her feet. His steps didn't falter once. Until they did.

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks when Harry skidded to a stop, something in their path that she was trying not to panic over. She kept her eyes trained on the pearly hue of her shoes as if she could pinpoint every hue that glimmered off of the expensive fabric.

"Harry, what's going on?"

Almost jumping out of her skin, (Y/N) whipped her head up to find her father and Barron standing in their way. Her father spoke through gritted teeth, Barron's cheeks too red and eyes too glazed as he didn't even try to hide the way his gaze clung to her form. It's as if he forgot everything that led up to her fleeing from him and now returning with ruined mascara.

(Y/N) flinched back on instinct. His eyes were almost as bad as his touch.

Harry was a firm cage around her, keeping her steady as he ignored her father. He dismissed them as he tried to get around them, finding a path between a pair of tables. Her breathing caught in her throat when she saw her father try to reach for her, his hand like a wolven claw meant to drag her away.

In a moment, Harry had twirled her away, putting her out of range while he acted as a solid wall between them to her.

"Do not touch her," he gritted out, an undertone to his voice she'd never heard before. He was looking her father right in the eye as he spat out his command, taking him on without a wavering second.

Her father, taken aback, almost stumbled on his feet. "Excuse me?" he let out.

Ignoring him once more, Harry shot a sharp look at Barron. The man recoiled as if he had been struck.

Harry didn't linger a second longer as he took through the tables, getting them back on track as soon as possible. (Y/N) could feel eyes on her, no doubt cameras following suit. This was a moment publication and gossip blogs would rather die than leave out. Tomorrow was going to be a shitshow with the notifications that would blow up her phone, but she couldn't find it in her to care at the moment.

She only focused on Harry, keeping up with him and keeping her hand in his on her waist.

Eventually, they stepped into the back hallway. (Y/N) recognized it from the times she'd visited 132 during a regular exhibition; it was the best way to sneak in and out when she didn't want to be spotted.

Pushing open the heavy door after the hallway forked off into two different directions, Harry pulled (Y/N) into the fresh night air. Though the sky was clear, not a single star could be seen above their heads, the lights too bright to see anything in the heavens. The alley behind the gallery was big enough to allow protected trucks full of art pieces large enough to be considered murals to make through, the space clean enough. Cigarette butts were on the ground, and a dumpster resided on the other side. Still it was enough to please that of the higher clientele that visited the 132 Gallery, though (Y/N) wasn't sure she would care if she were stepping through piles of garbage at the moment.

She was out. The gallery, her father, Barron, the cameras were all behind her.

That knowledge alone allowed her lungs to open just a hair more, the rush of oxygen almost choking her.

"Sully's on his way, okay?" Harry told her, his grip on her lessening now that they were alone, "I told him it was an emergency and he said he'd make it as soon as possible."

"Okay," she gasped, nodding her head as best she could through her muddied mind.

"Yeah," she breathed out, her lungs shaky but nothing like before. She just needed to think about every intake, which was a feat in its own, but whatever helped.

A beat passed, Harry surely keeping track of her breathing. "Thought we stopped crying?" he murmured after a moment, closing in around her with his hands settling on her biceps.

Raising her hand to her cheek, (Y/N) swiped away a stream of tears she hadn't even been aware were leaking out.

"Me too," she whispered, her voice watery with a pinch to her brows.

Through the vignette of her tear-clumped lashes, (Y/N) could see the barely there smile on his features. "You've got all that pretty makeup on, remember? Can't keep crying like that when Sully gets here," he crooned, his voice more gentle than she ever thought he could manage.

He thought her makeup looked pretty. Maybe he wasn't saying that she looked pretty, but it was still enough to loosen her muscles just enough.

A watery smile fixed itself on her lips. "Yeah," she let out, the word floating on a delicate huff of laughter.

From behind Harry, a bright beam of light outlined his silhouette. The sound of tires popping over the pavement and the purring rumble of a car engine filled the alleyway. Harry looked over his shoulder, leaving (Y/N) with only a view of the cut and hinge of his jaw, looping curls on the back of his neck.

The car stopped beside them, Harry not wasting a second before he was gathering (Y/N) in his arms and pulling her into the back of the SUV. She was first in, with Harry following behind her over the leather bench seat.

(Y/N) couldn't look at Sully when she settled, avoiding the reflection of his gaze in the rearview mirror she was sure that was pointed in her direction. As soon as the pair of them were buckled in—Harry having done hers—Sully was off. They were seamlessly incorporated into the city's traffic, the route back to her apartment, one he knew well and (Y/N) hoped he could quick work of.

Harry, having forgone the usual buffer he placed between them, shifted in his seat with his thigh pressed against hers. In the back of her mind, (Y/N) knew this should feel like it was too much for her, that she should be shying away from his touch after the gross feeling Barron left her with, but she didn't feel that instinct to revolt. Instead, he was like an anchor, the steadying pillar that followed her about and ensured there was no way she could drift away from shore.

"Alright?" he whispered, ducking down to peek into her line of sight, "Almost back home."

She nodded, her brain feeling numb though she was sure there were still tears dripping off her cheeks. Now that the initial wave of panic passed, exhaustion was moving in. She would find out soon if there was going to be an aftershock, a tremor that would wrack through her when the night rushed back to her clear mind.

Sinking into her seat, (Y/N) tossed her watery gaze out the window. Only a couple of hours prior she was in this same spot, though with perfected makeup and her skin buzzing from anticipation and excitement. Now she only buzzed with the feeling of oxygen reentering her bloodstream.

God, she couldn't wait to get out of her clothes, and get the pins out of her hair.

No longer caring, she got a head start and began shakily unraveling her shoes from her feet. Her fingertips fumbled over the latch on the string of pearls around her ankles, but it didn't take long for her to kick off her pumps and curl her knees to her chest. Harry silently reached down and took the Manolo's from the floor, his fingers hooked in the top straps.

When (Y/N)'s building came into view, Sully rolled to a stop just outside the entrance. (Y/N) finally chanced a look at the rearview mirror, her driver's soft eyes matching hers through the glass.

"Thank you," she peeped, voice broken.

Sully simply smiled and nodded at her.

Behind her, Harry urged her out onto the sidewalk with a careful hand on her back. She didn't think twice about her bare feet landing on the burgundy carpet rolled out on the sidewalk before her building, keeping her mind focused on getting up to her apartment. Harry lingered for a moment, the rumble of his voice saying something to Sully, before he was joining her.

"C'mon," he murmured, grabbing her hand in his.

Much like he had at the Gala, Harry directed her through the lobby, her hand in one of his with her shoes in the other. He didn't let her linger on what the doormen could be thinking, seeing her with tear stained cheeks and bare feet with her designer gown. He took her straight to the elevator and input the code to her floor.

For the first time since landing in the bathroom with panic in her chest, (Y/N) noticed the small detail of elevator music.

Following after him, Harry took her to her apartment, using the key she'd given him weeks ago to let them in. He let go of her hand once they crossed the threshold as he lingered back to lock the door behind them. Looking around her apartment, the rug under her feet, (Y/N) couldn't pinpoint what triggered her, but the sprinkling of tears leaving her eyes elevated to a full downpour.

Her breathing came out in a stuttered pace, a whimper swirling from her chest. There was that aftershock.

Oh, how this night was derailed.

In an instant, Harry is there. His arms looped around her, his instincts taking over as she was pulled to his chest.

"Hey, hey," he crooned to her, "What's going on, what happened?"

(Y/N) only shook her head against his black suit-covered shoulder. She didn't have a real answer to that, and wasn't interested in digging through the events of the night to give him a full picture at the moment.

Instead, she focused on his hold. She could feel the bump of her heels on the small of her back, but that didn't keep him from keeping her in a grounding hold. Though he was touching her in the same places that Barron had—her back, her arms, her leg, her chin—Harry's touch didn't feel the same at all. She didn't recoil or expect a film to be left on her pores.

She all but melted into him, her muscles liquifying like the tears from her eyes. Harry held her up without a second thought, just as he had the rest of the night.

A pinch took knitted her brows together at the thought, her eyes squeezing shut as more tears fled from her ducts.

Never did she picture herself needing him the way she did tonight. He was so calm and strong, keeping her from falling to pieces on the bathroom floor. (Y/N) loved Francesca with her whole heart and knew she owed her a phone call before the night was over, but she didn't think her best friend could have controlled the situation and her breakdown like Harry had.

He stopped her father from touching her, Barron from talking to her. He knew the precise way to make it out with the least amount of disturbance possible. Even letting Sully know to pick them up as soon as possible wasn't something that had even crossed her mind, but that had to have been one of the first things he did when he realized her state.

She hugged him tighter, her arms around his middle.

Drawing away just enough to look down at her, Harry scanned her with sparkling green eyes. "Do y'need to breathe with me again?" he asked her, the suggestion gentle and quiet as if there were people around to overhear.

"N-No," she said, shaking her head, "I just—... Can you stay with me f-for a second?"

In response, Harry homed her back into his chest. "I've got you," his voice rumbled his chest under her cheek.

Though it was more than clumsy with missteps and stilted movements, Harry led her to the staircase that ran up to her room. From there, he sat her on the bottom step, with him following closely after. She huddled up to him, Harry's arms curling around her as she sat with her dress splayed around her.

She didn't know how long she sat there, one of Harry's hands on her shin with his thumb moving in a soothing circuit over the bone, her face in his neck, but no time seemed long enough. The only reason she even dared to begin to pull back was the itching feeling of her clothes wrapped around her body.

"What do you need?" he asked instantly, ducking down into her space. From this view, she saw a collection of freckles across his nose, faint.

Swallowing, (Y/N) felt her hair sticking to her wet cheeks, the chunks of desecrated mascara surely mixing with the strands on her skin.

"I don't want to be in my dress anymore," she said, her voice as loud as she could manage without breaking. "It's too much."

"Okay," he murmured, giving a small nod, "Okay. I'll help you up to your room, and then y'can change into your pajamas."

The idea of him leaving her being in her bedroom had the lump in her throat thickening. She could barely keep her hands steady and he wanted her to be by herself?

"I-I can't do it by myself," she whimpered, too far gone to feel embarrassed about asking her bodyguard for help like this.

"Y'need my help?" he pressed, looking for verification though his gaze didn't waver from her own.

(Y/N) simply nodded her head.

His lips thinned but he gave her a confirming dip of his chin before he started helping her stand. He kept his hand wrapped around hers as he pulled her up the steps, (Y/N) following pliantly into her bedroom.

With a toss, Harry left her shoes in a heap somewhere in her room, but his attention was firmly laced on her. He kept her bedroom door open, the light from the hallway seeping through.

"(Y/N)?" he voiced, his voice firm, "Can y'look at me?"

Turning her gaze, she found him looking directly at her as his hand slipped away from hers. She almost wanted to reach for it back, unwilling to let go of that tether.

"You're okay with me helping y'undress?" he prodded, reiterating the same question she thought she already answered at the bottom of the stairs, "I need you to tell me if you're sure. I'm not going to help unless y'mean it."

"I-I can't do it by myself, please," she told him. Not once had she made it in or out of this dress by herself, and she couldn't fathom doing that now when her eyes were swollen with tears and her hands fighting off tremors. "I don't want to wear this anymore."

he looked at her for a beat longer, gaze matching her own. Whatever he saw in there must have been enough for him to give her a small nod. "Okay. Tell me what to do."

"Just get the zipper," she told him, facing her back towards him where the scooping line of her dress made it that much harder for her to reach the tiny mechanism.

Silently, Harry stepped behind her, her hair already up and pulled away when she reached towards her. The hook at the top of the form was the first to go, his fingertips brushing the same swatch of skin Barron had violated. Taking the zipper down, every tooth that was pulled apart allowed her lungs to fill deeper with air. (Y/N)'s eyes fluttered closed at the feeling, her dress loosening around her shoulders.

Pressing her hands to her chest, she kept the bodice of her dress up once Harry reached the bottom of the line.

"Can y'breathe better?" Harry murmured behind her, his words fanning across her skin. His breath felt cool against her skin.

"Uh-huh," she exhaled, her shoulders relaxing into a gentle slope, "Thank you."

She heard him murmur a good in response though he hesitated where he stood. "Do y'need any more of m'help? Or do y'want to be alone now?"

The idea of Harry leaving her, setting her to be alone in the dark of her room, the city skyline dusky out the window. She feared his hands were the only things keeping her from falling apart.

"Help," she answered simply.

Wordlessly, Harry assisted her in pulling down her dress, her back facing him as it became an ethereal puddle at her feet. Dom was going to kill her when he found out she let the gown touch the floor.

The nude forms of her shapewear and barely there bra was all that was left on her body as she kicked away her dress, the corset now structureless and folded with pearls a mess around.

(Y/N) didn't even think before she was pulling down her shapewear, the compression just another layer too much.

"I—" Harry coughed from behind her, his voice cutting short, "I'm going to get y'some clothes."

Her skin heated when she realized the way she had so carelessly began undressing in front of him. She was so used to having a team be there when she prepped and redressed from this, the shyness accompanying undressing and pulling layers off her body no longer lingered in moments like these. But, Harry wasn't a member of those teams, and this obviously wasn't the kind of thing he had anticipated when he obliged to stay and help her. She hoped she hadn't scarred him with the way she was almost completely nude in front of him.

At the same time, she couldn't curb the urge to get these pieces off of her body. She wanted to be rid of the night, the touches, the layers of herself that fell victim to her father's pressures to stay perfect at all times. The sooner that could happen, the sooner she would feel like herself again.

By the time Harry returned from her closet, an oversized shirt and a pair of her pilates shorts in hand, she was down to her thong with her hands holding up the push-up cups of her bra. She almost jumped out of her skin when she saw him move out of the corner of her eye, his steps faltering before he trained his gaze on the ground.

"I'll leave these here for you," he mumbled, the set of clothing being dropped on the edge of her mattress. He brought his knuckle up to brush against the tip of his nose, "I'll be outside your door. Come find me when you're done."

When the door shut behind him, (Y/N) was sealed away by herself. Her room became a vacuum, the air sucked out in a way that only felt calm.

Left in only her underwear, she allowed her bra to drop to the floor as she fell back on her mattress. She stared up at the ceiling, her chest rising and falling with the light of the city filtering through her balcony in hazy beams.

This is her apartment. She's in her bed. She was in her skin. Her clothing was waiting at the end of her bed.

(Y/N) eyes fell closed as relief flooded through herself at the mantra. Everything around her was hers. No one could take any of this from her. This peace was hers to hold.

Tomorrow she would be worried about the stories that would be spun, her father's reaction to everything that had transpired, what consequences would follow this breakdown. But that was for tomorrow. Tonight, she was going to relish the sense of safety, that for a second she worried she would never experience again (that panic in her tummy was rooted deep).

She needed to text Francesca.

While she would have preferred to give her a call, there wasn't enough energy in her body for something like that.

Instead, (Y/N) lethargically redressed into her pajamas. Her top slouched around her form, the neckline wide and sleeves draping. Her shorts were well worn and stretchy from the many pilates sessions they accompanied her to. Taking her phone after she was settled into her skin, she typed out a text to Francesca.

thank you for helping tonight. harry got me home a little bit ago so I'm alright. I love u so much fran thank you thank you thank you

The second she pressed send, the confirmation that the message was delivered popping up, (Y/N) dropped the device among the folds in her duvet to find Harry.

Whipping the door open, she found Harry just outside her bedroom door. His suit jacket had been discarded somewhere in her apartment, his tie missing as well. Now he was left with the top couple of buttons undone of his shirt and his shirt sleeves now loose around his forearms. The tattoos she spotted the first day they met were back on display, roses and mermaids and bugs and script.

That peace she found in her bedroom strengthened at the sight of him.

"Y'alright?" Harry asked, his posture straightening from where he had leant against the wall.

"Yeah," she murmured, stepping over the threshold, "I-I can breathe, finally." She swallowed, taking in the state of his messed hair and flush to his cheeks. She knew what the night looked like from her end, but she could only imagine the kind of trouble he went through. "I'm sorry."

Harry shook his head, lips thinning at her apology. "Don't be sorry," he affirmed, reaching a careful hand out, "C'mon."

Laying her palm in his, (Y/N) was ready to follow wherever Harry wanted to take her. She padded after him as he escorted her to her bathroom, the space littered with beauty products and a bay window showing off the light of the city through the frosted glass.

"Let's get your makeup off and hair down, yeah?" he asked her, meeting her eyes through the glass of her mirror as he flicked on the overhead lights.

"Yes, please," she nodded, her voice heavy with fatigue now that the come down was beginning to settle in. "I'll start with my makeup if you'll get my hair?"

"Sounds like a plan," Harry murmured, a shadow of a smile touching the corners of his lips.

A comforting silence settled in the air, Harry concentrating on breaking the hold of the can of hairspray that was used on her styled hair. A furrow appeared in his brow from where she spied him in the mirror.

"Let me know if I hurt you," he mumbled, picking bobby pins out of her strands. He only worked with gentle hands, fingertips brushing her scalp.

Now it was her turn to feel a curling grin tease the corners of her mouth. "Okay."

Pulling her removal balm from her drawer, she spread the oil across her fingertips and began shedding the layers of ruined makeup from her skin. In the back of her mind, she wanted to care about Harry seeing her with raccoon eyes and greasy skin, but she was sure he'd already seen her much worse earlier in the night. Nothing could scare him away at this point, even if she knew it was more for job security than anything that had to do with her. Besides, she didn't mind showing him this part of herself; he was her safety net tonight.

More and more of her strands broke free while (Y/N) peeled her lashes off, a damp cloth being used to get the removal balm off of her skin. Her pores and blemishes were on display once more, her skin breathing after being caked under powders and rivers of tears. Her scalp felt sore with every bobby pin Harry took out, a pile accruing on the counter.

"Can I ask what happened back there?" Harry piped up, breaking the silence that had settled like a fog over the room. His usual deadpan tone softened into something malleable and soft, gentle to her ears.

(Y/N)'s lips thinned at the question. She knew how to answer the question, but it was more of a matter of if she wanted to hear the answer after already living it. She bought herself time as she swiped her face with an extra cleansing water, her reusable cotton pad soft against her skin.

From her view in the mirror, she saw as he kept his eyes trained on her hair, fingers tracing through the strands comb out the twirled mess made earlier in the night.

"I know y'might not want to tell me because we aren't... friends, but even as someone who's meant to look after you, it would help to know just so I can protect you better next time," he mused, his voice gentle.

"Franny didn't tell you?"

A beat passed. "I want to hear it from you, (Y/N)."

Harry kept her steady when her weight shifted on her feet. His hands in her hair dropped to settle on her biceps, his eyes returning hers in the mirror. She felt his eyes scanning over her face. Whatever he found there had his jaw hardening, his resolve strengthening from where he stood behind her. "You're not there anymore, (Y/N). It's all over, don't forget."

She nodded her head, taking in a wavering breath through her nose. "Right, um," she started, her fingers fiddling with the sewn edge of her cotton pad, "It was that guy, at our table. The one sitting on my dad's other side. He found me at the bar when I was getting a drink, and he just didn't really listen. He bought me a drink and kept wanting to talk to me even when I was saying I wanted to go back to Emma and Francesca."

With his hands resuming in her hair, Harry listened along. "Right," he murmured, his voice now holding an edge that had previously been melted away. She had a feeling he knew bits and pieces of this story, and it only made it that much harder to hear it from her mouth.

"He kept touching me, and talking to me like I was stupid. It wasn't that bad, it just felt wrong—it made me feel gross." She swallowed around her dry throat, grateful for the lack of makeup on her face, her tears now welling over clean lashes. "I tried to leave, but I knew people were around and my dad would have been so mad if I made a scene. I tried to find you but I think my dad was talking to you so you couldn't see me, and the girls were busy, and there was a camera guy going around and taking photos. I couldn't... I let him keep touching me, but I was getting so nervous and it was all too much."

With her hair finally down and free from the style it was put in, Harry noticed the shine of her tears falling down her cheeks once more. He didn't hesitate before he was spinning her around, looping his arms around her to collect her to his chest.

"I know, I know," he murmured to her, her own hands curling in the fabric of his black shirt, "'S over now, though, right?"?

"Right," she breathed, voice a bit hoarse.

His hand petted her hair, the strands fluffy now that the hairspray was broken but still holding the heat style she was given. She couldn't wait to wash her hair when she had the energy, already missing the natural texture.

"Y'said it was the man sitting beside your dad? Barron?"

"Mhm," (Y/N) whimpered at the sound of his name. "I guess my dad had told him I needed to be taken care of, and I think he told him other m-mean things about me."

Her words dissolved into a string of sobs, Harry going tense against her. She couldn't help herself, sniffling and crying against his chest, her breathing coming in erratic puffs. She felt guilty, feeling him tense around her. She didn't mean to upset him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she babbled, pulling away to look at him with a crinkling sniffle of her nose, "To-Tonight has been a lot. Thank you for helping me."

(Y/N) attempted to unravel herself from his hold, only to be stopped by his arms caging around her middle. "It's okay, don't apologize to me," he told her earnestly, matching his gaze to her blurry one, "Thank you for telling me, but I want to make something very clear right now."

Nodding, she looked up at him, watching as he ducked down into her space, crowding around her with intensity in his eyes.

"If y'ever feel uncomfortable or like you're in danger, for whatever reason—I don't care if you think it's not that bad, or your father will be upset, or whatever reason you think is good enough to stay in that moment—you are going to leave." His words were a command hiding behind a gentle tone. He was unwavering in his stance, that much she could glean. "I don't care what you have to do, what kind of 'scene' y'have to make, come find me if 'm not right there. Whatever will make you feel safest, that's what I want you to do. Don't ever feel like you have to put up with anything that upsets you for whatever reason.

"You matter more than whatever cover story or photos someone could make up. Okay? Don't ever think it's the other way around."

(Y/N) couldn't hold back the tears that fell down her cheeks, her skin stained and chin dripping with every drop. Her father had never said or even made her feel like putting herself first was an option, that she was the one variable in these stories that deserved a bit of protection. There was even a brief period of time when she had a publicist, and he never said anything close to what was coming out of Harry's mouth.

Everyone else around her had always shared the importance of what those around her thought, what could be said about her, the kind of stories that could be splashed across the pages. Her feelings, her safety, herself was always at the bottom of that list.

"Okay?" Harry prodded, his hands on her back flexing with fingertips denting the planes of her back, "Do y'understand what 'm saying?"

"I do," she choked out, lips quivering. Even blurry through her tears, dressed in all black and exhaustion on his features, Harry was the most gorgeous person she'd ever seen. An angel in the frosty light of her bathroom. "Thank you."

Harry only tugged her closer to his chest, cupping her back of her head where she snuggled in and allowed tears to run from her eyes.

(Y/N) clung to him tighter.

—————

Waking in her bed, duvet in folds around her with her pilates shorts chucked on the floor beside her discarded gown, (Y/N) blinked her stiff eyelids open. She couldn't be sure what time it was when she stalked to her bedroom, only remembering the ache in her muscles and stuffy nose. Harry had stayed with her all night, soothing her through the bouts of tears and being there when all she needed was to not be alone.

Stretching out of her bed with her feet hitting the floor, she couldn't remember if Harry had stayed after she fell asleep. She was barely aware of her own body when she shed her shorts and flopped into her bed, too exhausted to even crawl under the covers.

Stepping over her cold floor, (Y/N) crept out into the hallway, peering down the bend. Just barely, she could see a folded suit jacket and the first strands of curling brown hair from where she could spot the end of her couch. The closer she came to the living room, the closer she came to letting a smile settle on her features.

How he could manage it, she didn't know, but it was very much in his character to sleep with his brows pinched and arms crossed over his chest. He didn't look like he was resting particularly well, his suit jacket acting as his pillow as he threw himself into an odd shape to lay on her couch.

He stayed.

A heat bubbled under her skin at the thought. Despite the wringer she put him through the night before, he stayed here. Though she wasn't exactly sure how she would navigate the conversation that would have to occur when he woke, how she would handle knowing that he saw those most vulnerable parts of her, at least she knew she wasn't alone.

Letting him stay where he was, (Y/N) silently moved past him to her kitchen. She could start to say thank you by making him breakfast, she decided. If anything, it might be a good enough distraction to push off the conversation a bit longer when he woke.

She fell into her element as she pulled out the ingredients, feeling her muscles relax and joints loosen. Trying to be as quiet as she could so as to not disturb the sleeping beauty on her couch, she pulled the dish together as she went. Slices of toast were warming in a butter skimmed pan while she raided her spice rack. From her fridge she pulled eggs and chorizo, cheese and hashbrowns until she came up with a scramble. A rich and lemony hollandaise started on her stove, her apartment filling with toasted spices and the sizzling pop of the chorizo looking. She hoped he would appreciate the extra shred of manchego she stirred in.

With her mind running around the kitchen, timing and anticipating everything, she felt okay. She knew there had to be more than a handful of notifications on her phone, too many articles with her name tagged, and her father scheming her punishment, but, right now, she was content in living in this moment. She could wash her hair later, answer her phone calls, and explain to Dom that she didn't mean to let the Vivienne gown wrinkle on the floor. Before then, she would allow her only consequences to be the ache in her bones and the crust in the corners of her eyes.

Adding the final seasonings and beginning to plate everything, (Y/N) shifted her attention to the other consequence laying on her couch. She really hoped he liked what she made.

Adding the hollandaise over the hashbrown bowl, (Y/N) finished up with adding the slices of crusty toast to the rim of the bowl. She placed them on her rarely used dining table, hesitating at the chair beside where she determined Harry would sit before backtracking and placing her own serving in the seat across.

Now was the hard part.

Padding over the rug, she made her way to the couch, Harry's restless form still stiff where he laid. With the top buttons of his top undone, the tan skin of his chest was on display, the necklace she had noticed time and time again, the pendants finally on display. The faces of a duo of birds inked on his chest peeked out, matching the dark black of his outfit. He even fell asleep with his shoes on.

He did all that work to make sure she was comfortable—getting her out of her dress, helping her take her hair down, reminding her to wash her makeup off—only to fall asleep with his suit jacket as a pillow and his event clothes wrapped too tight around him.

Crouching beside him, she sat on her folded knees. His profile was on display this way, the line of his nose and curl of his lashes highlighted through the sunny window.

Using a gentle hand, she cautiously settled her palm on his tensed shoulder. "Harry," she murmured. She gave a minute shake to his shoulder.

Harry woke up with a start, his reaction much quicker and more drastic than she had expected. He sucked in a big breath, his eyes flying open as he sat up, his hands reaching behind to prop himself up. She could see the recognition settle over his features, his eyes frantically searching over her face with his mouth in a soft gape.

"(Y/N)," he breathed out.

Having sat back some when he startled, her hands in a bundle in her lap, she blinked up at him. "Sorry," she started, "I just... I made you breakfast, if you were hungry."

Disoriented, he ran a heavy hand through his hair as he shifted where he sat. The suede cushions fluffed up, the fibers mimicking waves around him. "Yeah?" he asked, moving to sit properly with his feet on the ground and knees wide apart.

Still on her knees, she looked up at him, his hair a mess and chest heaving as he caught his stressed breath. She opened her mouth to say something, but every thought was ripped from her head when her front door was flung open.

Whipping around, she almost jumped out of her skin when she saw her father stepping inside. His face was twisted in anger, wearing a suit too nice for this early in the morning, and his eyes as daggers trained right on her.

He stomped over the threshold, coming towards where she was still folded on the floor.

"Dad!"

Ignoring her voice, she saw him finally take in the scene. For the first time he seemed to realize Harry was there. With (Y/N) on her knees in front of him. His clothes were a rumpled mess, the same ones from the night before. His chest rising and falling from his startled good morning, hair a stressed mess.

(Y/N) could practically see his blood pressure rising through his body, his hair standing on end when he returned his gaze to hers. He was seething, taking his assumptions from the scene before him.

"Are you fucking kidding me, (Y/N)?" he hissed, his hands practically shaking at his sides. He towered over her, even from where she sat feet away. "What do you think you're trying to do to him!?"

Scrambling to stand up, she was already shaking her head in denial. This wasn't the kind of scolding she was going to be able to sit through.

"What? I'm—No, that's not—"

He shook his head, his jaw stiff. He seemed to bite his own tongue, stopping himself from saying anything more. "We will have to talk about that later," he cemented, "Because you need to tell me what the hell you were thinking last night."

While she knew this was coming, she honestly expected more of a phone call. She thought he would be too angry to even look at her. He'd never been angry enough to burst into her home and yell at her there. He much preferred his home turf, where he controlled all the power.

Swallowing, she tried to calm her racing heartbeat. "I know it looks bad, but I promise I didn't mean—"

"I don't want excuses!" he shouted, cutting her off despite the fact he was the one that invited her to talk in the first place. "I'm tired of you embarrassing me every chance you get! I always knew you'd be crazy like your mother, but I didn't think it would be this fucking bad."

(Y/N) recoiled at the mention of her mother. He rarely talked about her unless in punishment, but he hadn't said anything so blatantly evil about her.

She didn't know what to say. This is why he never told her about the racing in her heart and the stress that filled her without permission. She didn't want him to think of her as crazy, something that needed to be medicated and put away. But, she supposed now, he didn't need to know that information to say that about her.

Her father took a menacing step towards her, his expression that much more angry after her silence.

In an instant, Harry was sliding between them, his back facing (Y/N) with his height obscuring her view of her father. "Sir," Harry started, a warning to his tone that had to come from years of dealing with pests.

It was her father's turn to take a step back, (Y/N) just barely catching the way he rolled his eyes. Harry's interference only set him off further, it appeared.

Speaking around the wall that was Harry, he yelled to (Y/N), "How am I supposed to trust him now, after I saw what you were trying to do to him. What did you do last night that convinced him that you needed protecting from me when you're the problem!"

Harry took a step towards him, a hand out as if to soothe a vicious animal while barring him from coming any closer should he attempt. "Sir, I think it's best if you step outside for a moment."

Ignoring Harry's plea, he only craned his neck to ensure (Y/N) could see him when he yelled again. "I always knew you'd end up a whore," her father seethed, "But you only seem to like it best when it's a way to get back at me."

With that, Harry didn't hesitate before grabbing her father by the arms and twisting him away. He escorted him out the door of her apartment, pushing him over the threshold with a slam of the door behind them.

Muffled shouts started on the other side of the door, her father's voice the one that was raised. She couldn't pick out individual words, but she figured that was probably for the best. She didn't need to hear any more of what he thought of her.

Staving off a replay of last night's breakdown, she sunk to the floor, her legs a tangled puddle underneath her. Her hands shook in her lap, matching the cadence of her lungs as she fought to keep her breathing even.

Suddenly, a loud bang against her door rang through her empty apartment. Tears filled her eyes.

The blaring noise was compounded with a stretch of silence. The low timber of Harry's voice rose then, though his was layered with the typical composure he always had, even in the face of someone as unreasonable as her father.

The silence gave too much room for her thoughts to grow, her head bloated and heavy.

In an odd way, she was grateful he was as angry as he was. He was too upset, his vision too red, to say anything properly damaging. If he had been thinking any clearer, she worried she would have a plane ticket to Sweden in hand and all credit cards in her name shredded.

While this morning was bad, it definitely could have been worse, she decided.

She couldn't be sure how long she sat on the floor, waiting for whatever would emerge back into her apartment, but soon enough the doorknob twisted with the hinges gliding open. Harry was the only one to step inside, her father missing from the hallway when she glanced around.

His cheeks were red, hair in an even sorrier state than before, but he kept that same calculated set to his irises. He didn't hesitate to crouch to her level, his brows pinching as he met (Y/N)'s eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked, intensity laced through his voice.

(Y/N) nodded her head, stray hairs curtaining around her face. "Sorry about everything he said. I-I don't know where he—why he—"

Harry shook his head, his jaw ticking. He dropped his gaze from hers as he shuttered them in a lingering blink. When he dared to glance up at her once more, he said, "No, don't apologize for him. I jus'... (Y/N), I think 's best if I go home, now."

Instinctively, she wanted to question him. She wanted to investigate his reasoning and attempt to make him stay. He was her solid pillar, the buoy keeping her afloat. She worried what she would do without him for the first time in twenty-four hours.

But, she couldn't blame him. Her father just accused her of trying to seduce him to wriggle into his head, with whatever else he shared behind that closed door. She could only imagine just how uncomfortable he was now in her presence, both his employer and client having varying breakdowns in front of him.

"Okay," she settled, dropping her eyes to her hands. At least the tremor stopped. "Thank you for staying with me last night."

Giving a curt nod, Harry stood to his full height. He moved silently around him, stoic as ever as he collected his suit jacket and cell phone. His footsteps seemingly echoed in the otherwise silence of her home.

She wasn't even sure if he looked at her again before he slipped out the front door, leaving her alone.

—————

Dad

I have a flight scheduled to take you to Paris in a week. You can't be trusted here to stay out of trouble, even with Harry's help. You will be staying through to the winter, and I hope you take this time to reflect on what you've done and how you plan on fixing your attitude.

Harry will be accompanying you, but I expect you to keep your relationship strictly professional with him. Don't squander this time away, (Y/N).

I will check in soon to ensure things are going well.

(Y/N) felt heavy reading her father's string of texts.

Today had been enough of an obstacle already, and now she had to plan to be out of the country well after Summer had ended.

She didn't bother to type a response, only reacting to the top message with a thumbs up.

Falling back on her bed, the mattress bouncing under her spine, she stared up at the ceiling.

She was going to have to call Francesca.

—————

"Is there anything I can grab for you, Ms. (Y/N)?"

A pleasant smile curled over (Y/N)'s lips, the bags under her eyes shielded by the heavy pair of sunglasses perched on her nose. "No, thank you."

The flight attendant scurried away at her dismissal, all too eager to practically sprint away. While this crew wasn't especially friendly with her, always seeming a little too scared of her, there was definitely a difference in how attentive they'd started for this flight. They'd no doubt seen the articles that had been swirling for the last week.

She couldn't blame them, honestly. Reviewing the articles herself, she was painted as an out of touch socialite, a woman who flipped out after a perceived slight. There were photos of her speaking to Barron, the moment having been described as the final moments before the blowup. The drink clutched in her hand was blown out of proportion, insiders and onlookers dishing out how she'd been drinking the whole night despite those two sips of the gin and tonic being the only alcohol she partook in the entire Gala.

The men around her were painted as heroes, including Harry. Her father and Barron were trying to talk her down from her drunken antics, urging her to calm and remind her of the cameras watching. Harry was doing the chivalrous thing and helping her out of the event before she stumbled around and humiliated herself more than she already had. Some sources even became so bold as to claim that the reason she snuck away to the bathroom for so long, others checking on her, was because of a drug problem she was hiding behind closed doors.

All of it was her fault. She was being unreasonable, and rude. Untamable and embarrassing. Crazy, even.

The webs were spun so well, including the official photographs along with blurry photographs posted by anonymous social media accounts. Every story looked worse than the last.

Even knowing the truth, seeing those photos gave (Y/N) a deep sense of humiliation she couldn't shake.

Seeing an outsider's perspective, the way she clung to Harry with messy hair and swollen eyes, crying over him and using him like some kind of shield. She couldn't believe he had stayed with her after the way she acted—and those were only the things that occurred in public.

If that wasn't bad enough, after the fashion magazine's interview was posted along with the event's photos and stories, Harry was now having articles written about him. People were digging into his private life, hunting down any kind of hint of who he was, what he meant to (Y/N). Most likely, some were even hoping to get into contact with him and earn and exclusive. She couldn't blame him if he took someone up on the offer.

It was all her fault.

Maybe that was why this past week, she hadn't heard from him at all. To be fair, she hadn't gone anywhere, preferring to keep out of the public eye while the gossip circulated. Francesca met her at her apartment instead, helping her with everything; they packed a small bag to get her through her traveling, cried, bitched about her dad, and had a two day sleepover before (Y/N)'s exile began. She was the only one (Y/N) told, knowing it would get to the rest of the girls in a matter of time, only after she had disappeared for a good few weeks.

That left (Y/N) with a small go-bag, a full wardrobe and duplicates of her favorite things already waiting at the French penthouse, sweats on her form and embarrassment too deep to coax Harry into interacting with her.

She felt stiff where she sat, imagining what the stew crew was whispering about her just out of earshot, imagining what Harry was thinking about her as he refused to even glance at her despite the orientation of their chairs. She couldn't relax in her skin. She was too in her head to manage something like that.

Though (Y/N) was happy to get out of New York, these circumstances were killing any joy she could tie to the change in scenery. Paris was one of her favorite places in the world, her penthouse securing a special spot in her heart, but her father wanted to turn it into a prison. he wanted to ruin another safe place for her. It sucked.

And, the one person she was too embarrassed to even properly look at, was the one person accompanying her through it all. Her new roommate was the same guy that she was being accused of sleeping with out of anger at her father, out of her rampant sexual desire that kept her from staying with any one person for too long, or a cute decoration that was placed around her to give her clout. At least that's what the rumors swirling around were.

Heaving a sigh and crossing her legs, (Y/N) wanted to be surprised that Harry didn't even flinch in her direction, instead she felt just a sting of hurt behind her ribs.

—————

"You know where the house is?"

"Yes," Harry answered, his response curt as he shifted the car into drive.

(Y/N) couldn't blame his short reply, she wasn't being particularly warm either.

Instead, she silently settled into her seat, conflicted on how to feel. She'd never really travelled without a driver. Even if it wasn't Sully since he stayed in the city with his family, there was always someone else that took care of her wherever she went. This time, it appeared Harry would be in charge of that.

Most likely at her father's request, she figured. Now there was no reason for her to be away from him for even ten minutes. Her babysitter extraordinaire.

Shifting her gaze out the windscreen, she took in the emerging city. It had been a while since she was away from the lights and the skyscrapers, the crowds of tourists. While Paris wasn't quite as quant as the movies made it out to be, it was definitely different from that of New York. There was more breathing room.

Her dad always thought it was too slow, too boring, a place to spend a single day in before moving on to something much newer and exciting. Maybe that was why it became one of her favorite places, her first request when she was old enough being that she could find a penthouse in Paris. She knew he wouldn't want to follow her here.

Harry drove like an expert through the winding streets, a GPS screen hooked up to show him the way to her penthouse, though she doubted he needed it. He kept his gaze shifting through the cycle of peering out the window, checking his mirrors, and glancing in the rearview. He didn't waver in his routine, as if (Y/N) wasn't even there.

The familiar lead up to the neighbourhood of Saint-Germain had (Y/N) sitting up. She couldn't wait to lock herself away in that top floor penthouse.

Taking advantage of the free space not too far from the entrance to the building, Harry pulled in in one smooth motion. The click of the gear shifter settled them into park. He pulled the key after a beat, finally shooting her a fleeing glance.

"I'll grab the bags and follow you," he directed, not waiting before he was pushing open his door and stepping out onto the street.

She followed suit, pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head.

Upon her first deep breath in, (Y/N) wondered if she had been away for long enough to convince herself the air really did smell like butter and wine the way poets always described.

There were still a good amount of tourists given the neighborhood's proximity to various landmarks, but this place was worlds different in comparison to the city. She hoped her father knew she was enjoying her punishment.

Harry, with their bags in hand, waited for her to take the lead. She gave him a careful smile before she breezed past him, leading them to the entrance of her building. This place was much different than that in the city, no doorpeople around and only a small bank of two elevators beside the various mailboxes.

Once in the lift, she entered them in to be taken to the top floor. Harry was a silent pillar beside her, his luggage and her duffle bag in hand. She swallowed around the silence.

The top floor was all for her, the space being bought by her father by the time she was twenty. Knocking down the walls, the three separate apartments were turned into one big space that was gutted and turned into an immaculate penthouse. (Y/N) fought to keep as many of the original features as she could.

Stepping inside the space, her efforts were rewarded with the sight of the off-white walls, texture embedded in the slabs. Wrought-iron fixtures were littered throughout, the original doors and biggest kitchen left as it was. Everything held the air of romance, the space a lot more intimate than small than what she had in New York. A trio of different balconies were stationed on the outside, those terraces offering views of the Eiffel Tower.

It was lovely. That was the only way she could describe it. The kind of place that deserved to be draped in roses and lit exclusively in candlelight. Late nights and Burgundy wine with silk dresses.

Harry followed her as she stepped towards a plane of French doors, the glass frosted to keep prying eyes out. "This is my room," she told him, voice detached, "But down that hall are a couple of spare bedrooms and bathrooms, so you can pick whatever one you want."

Dropping her duffle on the floor, he gave her a single nod. "Okay."

With that, he turned on his heel. She watched as he started down the hall, leaving her with a single syllable.

She needed to say something. As distant as she was acting because of her embarrassment, she couldn't not acknowledge what happened. Every time she looked at him, she saw those photos of her clinging and crying on him, her mascara a mess while he looked at her with sympathy. She saw the way he tended to her hair in the mirror, using his fingers to break the hold of the hairspray and gently pick out the bobby pins holding the style in. She saw him defending her against her father.

"Harry?" she peeped, eyes fixed to his back.

"Hm?" He stopped, looking at her over his shoulder.

Taking a step towards him, her hands a fumbling mess behind her back, she swallowed. "I wanted to say thank you again for last week. Especially after everything. And for defending me," she started, her gaze dropping to the middle of his back, "I'm sorry I acted that way, and how I have been acting. I know I can be unreasonable, so it means a lot that you stayed with me and still came here with me. I hope this isn't too bad of a place to be exiled."

She tried to go lighthearted, ending with a breathy laugh that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Harry only looked at her with a pinched brow, his arm dropping the bag he had slung over his shoulder. "I... I don't think I understand."

Clamming up, (Y/N) felt too exposed. She waved him off, shaking her head in hopes of dismissing all that she shared. "Don't worry about it," she said, "Just thank you for looking out for me, and I promise I'm going to make your job as easy as possible while we're here. Hopefully, I'll be able to get you home before the holidays."

A silence settled between them. Harry didn't offer any kind of response, only his eyes following her. She shifted her weight where she stood, her fingers knotting behind her back.

She inched towards her room, the space feeling too heavy as her words hung in the air.

"I think I'm going to unpack and take a nap," she murmured, offering a barely there smile, "We can order food later if you want, but I don't plan on doing anything, so the rest of the day is yours."

With that, she slipped between her open French doors, the warmth of her room enveloping her once she sealed the rest of the penthouse out. She didn't want to see if Harry was still standing there, watching her with eyes that were too observant.

She took in a deep breath, shifting her gaze through her bedroom. Her eyes landed on the open drapes to her balcony. Outside, the Eiffel Tower shimmered.

—————

ephemere is the French words for a fleeting beauty; a summer love, a shooting star, greatness gone too soon

this part is def one of the longer ones of the series so thank you so much for getting through it! sorry for any mistakes and if you have any ideas or thoughts please send them in!

#writing #harry #harry styles #harry one shot #harry imagine #harry blurb #harry au #bodyguard harry #harry x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles au #bodyguard harry styles #love on tour #pleasing #harrys house #as it was #satellite

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pinkanonwrites · 1 year

Text

Over 4 Miles Away

That’s how far away a crocodile can smell blood! Unfortunate for you, having a pretty rough time of the month and a bothersome crocodile fae as a close friend. Can’t he take it easy on you for once?

Sebek X Reader Period fic! AFAB Reader, they/them pronouns, period comfort, minor scolding (it is Sebek, after all)

1,700+ Words

"Human!"

You weren't sure if Sebek had been calling for you for a while or not, as the general chatter of passing time made it hard to hear even his booming voice over the crowd. But the frantic intensity with which he grabbed you sure made it seem like he had been. Like a flash, he wrenched you away from the doorway to your Magical Analysis class, leading you down into a nook in an adjacent hall even as the bell rang and students began to frantically shove into their respective classrooms.

"What the hell, Sebek! You can't just yank me around whenever you want." You snapped as you rolled your sore arm in its socket. Usually you'd be a bit more lenient to Sebek and his general antics. But not today. Today you were not in the mood.

Apparently, neither was he.

"I expected better of you, human! Do you truly think so little of us, your fellow classmates, that we would not think to consider your state of health? Personally, I find myself rather offended by your perception of us!"

"What are you even talking about?! And stop yelling!"

"Your injury! You would really choose to hide an injury from your fellow students?"

"...Sebek. I am not injured. What even gave you that idea?"

He scoffed, tilting his head away from you and crossing his arms in a huff. "And now you lie to my face? I certainly know better, human. You've smelled of blood since the moment you stepped foot onto campus."

"Blood? But I'm not-?" Your words ground to a halt, a painful twang in your stomach reminding you of why you were just so irritated in the first place.

"Frankly I'm surprised no one mentioned it to you earlier. It should be painfully obvious to every Beastman on campus."

Oh.

"Many of the fae as well. Those with acute senses at least."

Oh god no.

"Regardless, as your classmate and friend I felt it my duty to express my disappointment in… H-Human? Are you… crying?"

"No!" You were, but just a little. Tears of frustration and humiliation pricked at the corners of your eyes. You were tired, you felt like shit, everything hurt, and apparently half the school already knew about it without your permission. "I'm not injured, you stupid jackass! I'm on my period!"

"...Oh. Oh!" You could watch the realization bloom on Sebek's face in real time, eyebrows crawling up his face and cheeks blooming red as his expression twisted from distaste and disappointment into some type of embarrassment… or maybe horror? "So- So you are not injured then! That is good!"

"But apparently the whole school knows what time of the month it is!"

"N-Not the whole school! Just the Beastmen. Half the school, at most."

"And the fae!"

"Only some of the fae! Those with enhanced senses, such as myself and Lord Malleus!... And Master Lilia, as well."

Sebek's placations and panicked flailing did little to quell your mood. You just let out a short, pathetic wail before burying your face into your cupped hands, leaving him no choice but to hover awkwardly around you as you spiraled. You barely even processed his rather un-Sebek like ‘uh’s and ‘um’s and stammering, so lost were you in your own humiliation. God, and the day had only barely just begun. You just wanted to roll back into your shabby bed at Ramshackle and sleep until it didn’t feel like your stomach was trying to rip itself out anymore.

But just when you had internally decided to start pulling it back together in time for class, you felt a tense, stern hand rest itself on your shoulder.

“Your current state is not conducive to any proper education!” Sebek barked, clearly attempting to stifle his own fluster although his face was redder than a beet. “Allow me to escort you back to your dormitory.”

“Sebek.” You sniffled, rubbing your cheek hard with the heel of your palm. “I can’t. I still need the notes for this class, and I have to get Grim, and-”

“I will speak with Jack Howl this afternoon and procure a set of acceptable notes!” He insisted, leading you by the shoulder as he began to gently but insistently push you down the hall. “As for your monster companion, leave it to myself to make sure he is suitably disciplined for the day! You have my word.”

Were you simply too caught off guard by his unexpected change in demeanor, or too exhausted to argue? You couldn’t quite say. But it wasn’t until you were nearly to the doors of Ramshackle that you tried to raise an objection again. “You don’t have to do all this, you know. Not that I don’t appreciate it! Cause I really do. I just mean…” You sighed. You could try tiptoeing around what you were trying to ask, but there was really no sense in it. Sebek is the type of guy who is best talked to in clear and direct questions and statements anyway. “You don’t usually go out of your way like this for anyone but Malleus. Why now?”

He didn’t answer right away, instead steering you into the house and letting himself in behind you. He pushed you all the way to the base of the steps before letting you go and budging past you towards the kitchen. “Make yourself comfortable! I shall return shortly!”

“Sebek, what are you-?” Aaaand he’s gone. A tiny voice in the back of your brain chided you for letting yourself be steered around so easily, but it was quickly drowned out by the agonized screams of your aching muscles begging for bedrest. You slumped up the stairs to your room, trading your uniform for an unrecognizable band t-shirt you’d gotten from Floyd and a pair of oversized, hot pink sweatpants Cater had pawned off on you from the last care package he’d gotten from his sisters. You couldn’t even attempt to hold in the relieved groan as you let yourself flop limply onto your mattress, springs creaking dangerously beneath you. You heard your phone ping a few times on your nightstand, but couldn’t quite muster up the energy to roll over and reach for it.

You weren’t quite sure how long you’d chosen to lie face down on your bed, but it had been long enough to hear Sebek’s heavy steps ascend the staircase and stop outside your bedroom door.

“You do not have any chocolate.”

“...What?” You lifted up your head to see Sebek standing in your doorway with a silver tray (was that in your kitchen somewhere? You certainly didn’t recognize it.) loaded with what appeared to be a large cup of tea and a bottle of honey, as well as a small bottle of painkillers.

“I was under the impression chocolate was a necessity. No matter, I will acquire you some this afternoon.” As you rolled to make yourself more comfortable Sebek approached, placing the tray on your nightstand next to your phone.

“You don’t have to! I mean, this is more than enough. I didn’t even know I had tea.”

“It’s abysmal quality, but it shall suffice for today. You may take two of these,” He tapped the lid of the painkillers. “But then you must wait six hours before taking more.”

“Oh! Uh, thanks. I will.”

He watched, steely-eyed, as you shook two pills out of the bottle and downed them with a mouthful of sweet, floral tea. Even as you cradled the warm teacup in two hands he stood stiffly, hands folded behind his back, fidgeting slightly whenever he accidentally met your gaze.

“You never answered me before, you know.”

He jolted, eyes shooting to focus on a point on the wall past you where the wallpaper had begun to peel.

“I’m just curious, you know? Why would you go to all this trouble for me?”

“I… I recognize that I acted quite rashly this morning. In my concern for your well-being I failed to take into account any other possible causes, and in doing so had caused you great distress.” In between sentences you could see him worrying his lower lip with his sharp teeth, still refusing to make eye contact with you. “In assisting you I hoped you would consider my actions an adequate apology.”

“That’s… That’s so sweet Sebek. Thank you.” You wondered if you could pass off the heat you were feeling from your face all the way down into the pit of your stomach as a simple warming effect from the tea. Either way, it was a wholly welcome sensation.

“You are a… A very strange human. Despite better efforts I always- what I mean to say is- I can’t help but seem to find myself… Endeared. To you.”

“Aww, Sebek, does that mean you care about me?”

You expected his usual explosive demeanor as a response, an overwhelming burst of words and energy. What you didn’t expect was for his shoulders to slide up towards his ears, face reddening further as he glared at the wall like he was trying to set it on fire.

“Oh.”

“If you would excuse me then, Prefect!” he barked suddenly, erupting into a flurry of flustered movement as he unloaded the tray onto your nightstand in a few panicked motions. “There is more tea downstairs, I will return shortly after making a trip to the school store! If you would please-”

“Sebek.”

You latched his sleeve in between two fingers, keeping him from fully escaping you, and you could see him visibly gulp. You tugged him closer, gesturing for him to lean down to you, and when he did you planted a soft kiss upon his burning, pink cheek.

“Thank you Sebek. If it’s worth anything, I‘m pretty endeared to you too. Despite better efforts.”

As he pulled away you saw his straight-set scowl curl upwards into a wobbly grin that he failed to hide completely, bringing a fist up to his mouth to cover it with a faux cough.

“Do not think I will allow you to make a habit of missing class! Simply consider this an extenuating circumstance.”

You laughed, slumping comfortably into bed. “You got me, I’m just buttering you up so you'll let me slack off all day… That was sarcasm, by the way.”

“I am perfectly aware of what sarcasm is!”

“Really? Could have fooled me.”

“Prefect!”

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #disney twst #twst x reader #twst imagines #sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek zigvolt imagines #my writing

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jongseongsnudes · 2 months

Text

twelve.

warning; 😳 1.3k words. masterlist.

if you thought wooyoung was popular, well tonight’s party proved to you just how popular he really was.

the entire beach house was packed by the time it hit 10pm, hundreds of people gathered here to celebrate the man’s birthday. so many popular faces you recognise from around campus but of course the most popular guest of all was lee heeseung.

you’ve seen him here and there since the shirt-drenching incident earlier, the man very busy with the beautiful female crowd somewhere in the living room since then. every time you looked, he had a different girl but really, you expected nothing less.

while you being you, was already tired two hours into the party, wanting nothing more than to run away to the comfort of your designated room upstairs.

“girlie you look so pretty tonight!” eunji drapes her arm over your shoulders, the girl obviously not sober anymore, “too bad yeonjun couldn’t make it tonight huh?”

you know eunji wanted you to look good but her choice of outfit for you was really out there, barely covering anything it was supposed to. it definitely made you feel pretty though.

“too much talking and not enough drinking my pretty ladies!” wooyoung suddenly appears beside you, in his hand three red cups full to the brim, “bottoms up for the birthday boy!”

you down the entire cup for the boy, your fourth one actually and it was all starting to creep up on your very lightweight ass.

“now for shots!”

you internally gulp at the sight of wooyoung pouring a line of 9 shots on the kitchen bench, knowing damn well you couldn’t handle one right now let alone three. you were about to come up with an excuse when lo and behold, heeseung arrives... to your rescue.

for the second time today.

“did the birthday boy forget about me already?” heeseung playfully knocks into wooyoung, the two joking around before downing four shots each in a blink of an eye. leaving just one shot for dear eunji and thankfully, none for you.

you make a run for it when they’re all busy chatting, the massive bed upstairs immediately welcoming you in, your entire body and throbbing head finally able to relax. only for half an hour though because your nap is unfortunately interrupted by a sudden knock on the door.

“hee- heeseung?”

it’s hard to miss the way he’s kind of slouching at your door, eyes blinking at a much slower pace. like he can’t keep focus at all.

he stares at you for a second, the man looking hesitant before continuing, “i need to hide from wooyoung.”

that’s all you needed to hear to understand. wooyoung had been drowning everyone in his path with alcohol the entire night, literally, so you didn’t blame heeseung for wanting to hide.

it’s obvious that he had drank a fuck ton more since you last saw him downstairs, his cheeks now slightly red like the red in his eyes. he was definitely not very far off from blacking out.

“uh- yeah of course come inside.”

he makes himself comfortable on the small couch while you’re left slightly nervous at his very sudden presence in your room. you were now completely alone with heeseung, something you were praying wouldn’t happen tonight...

and something very dangerous with how tipsy you both currently were.

“are you... okay?” you slowly approach him, your own damn mind barely able to keep focus with all the alcohol running through you. you weren’t exactly drunk either but it’s coming. “want me to grab you anything?”

“just needed to rest a bit but the other rooms were occupied. sorry.”

“n- no it’s fine heeseung. just rest.”

he gives you a nod of acknowledgement and closes his eyes to do as told. it’s weird, to say the very least, having to act like strangers after being in such an intimate relationship for months.

you would’ve liked to say that you were over it, having ended things weeks ago. you really tried but you’re not. evident with how you’ve been feeling after seeing him again today.

you weren’t in love with him, but you definitely liked him more than you should’ve. and the fucked up thing is that you might actually still do.

“are you okay?” his voice breaks your thoughts, just to see him staring at you now, “you’re just standing there.”

“ye- yeah i’m fine,” you take steps closer to him without knowing it, your knees now almost touching, “thanks... for the four shots earlier.”

“you mean seven.”

“what! wooyoung is insane! how is he alive??”

you both fall into a fit of laughter, the light atmosphere makes you nostalgic of older times. yes it was toxic but there were times when you and him simply enjoyed each other’s company, being in each other’s hold, laughing away at stupid things. you fell for that heeseung but now you question if that was even the real him or not.

“sit down. you don’t look well.”

“yeah...” you awkwardly chuckle, “drank a bit too much as you can see.”

you’re not sure why you can’t seem to take your eyes off him. it had been this way since he got here and more obvious during the party, where you found yourself randomly scanning the room for him. it was unintentional but you kept doing it.

and now he’s sitting right there, staring up at you with that gaze you knew so well. the one that tells you he wants you, right at this moment.

taking a deep breath, you decide it’d be best to leave before something unwanted happens. so you do what you must, turning away so fast that you immediately lose balance and brace for the dramatic fall.

the fall does come, but not in the way you expected.

someone’s arms are suddenly around you, hugging you tightly against their chest as you both fall onto the ground. thankfully he spins you just in time to prevent any injuries to the face but at this point, you’d rather get knocked out cold on the ground than be in such an unnecessary situation with lee heeseung.

you’re now both on the floor with you in his embrace, your face buried in his chest. as if you weren’t intoxicated enough, the mixture of his familiar cologne and all the drinks he had tonight were only making it worst for your head.

“i think you’re drunk.”

his words make you move away from his chest, eyes finally meeting his, “honestly i think so too heeseung.”

laughter fills the room again, the two of you too in the moment to mind the specific position you’re both in right now. until one wrong movement causes him to lean in a tad closer, your faces now barely a breath apart.

well shit.

everything that happened today seemed like some sort of test given specifically to you. to see if you’d crack. to see if you’d go back to old ways. as if seeing him topless wasn’t bad enough, you’re now literally trapped under the man with his eyes focused on you and his lips seemingly waiting...

waiting to be kissed.

“heeseung-”

“you look so beautiful tonight...” he interrupts you, words kind of slurring as his hand moves away the loose hair on your face, “my heart is going crazy.”

his words could’ve been a result from how drunk he was and you supposed your actions could also be from how drunk you were.

because now you’re kissing him. his lips feel exactly how you remembered them to be, so soft and so plump.

and so damn desperate for yours.

end.

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caelisblade · 5 months

Text

— can‘t get enough | marius von hagen

this is a long bitch, 3.9k, ur welcome party people

cw: honeymoon smut, unprotected sex, fem!reader, use of good girl, baby (like, SO much), breeding kink, oral (both), i‘m too tired to think, sorry if i forgot something, oh and an emotional lovey dovey scene that made me question my entire life and almost sob bc i want this too

there‘s a little surprise at the end again :3

@valkyrayn HAH PROMISE KEPT !

you shrieked as marius lifted you up and carried you over the elevator’s exit, your arms were quickly around his neck to hold onto him tightly.

“did you really think i’d forget about the tradition of how the husband carries his wife over the doorstep of their home in their first night as a married couple?”, marius laughed at your horrified expression. “i would never.”

“could’ve warned me, though”, you muttered, slapping his arm as he let you down again, before you could say something else, he had already leaned down to kiss you and get you to shut up.

“shush, it’s the first night of us being married, baby. just let us enjoy these first moments, huh? this whole time i felt like you were somewhere else with your pretty head, i just need you with me for now”, he mumbled, his head buried against your neck as he smiled softly, placing a gentle kiss on the skin.

“okay”, you replied, hugging him as you closed your eyes, listening to his heartbeat as you slowly winded down. “i can’t believe we’re actually married now.”

he chuckled, letting go of you for a moment to lift your hand with the golden wedding band on your finger, softly kissing the finger and you giggled.

“we are, baby. it happened just earlier today”, marius laughed, blinking away a tear that was threatening to roll down his cheek. “i love you.”

“i love you, too”, you replied as you moved further into the honeymoon slash penthouse suite marius had rented for your honeymoon. “this place is gorgeous”, you mumbled, looking around everything. it was so incredibly luxurious, the couch looked incredibly comfortable and you couldn’t wait to lay there with him and watch a movie or just cuddle and relax in his arms.

“it really is, isn’t it? and we have this place all to ourselves for the next two weeks. i left our phones with vincent, he has the phone number of the landline in here so he’ll be the only person able to reach us in case of emergency. no social media, no press, nothing. just you and me in this gorgeous penthouse”, marius explained. “no one except for us will matter for the next two weeks.”

“you really thought of everything, didn’t you?”, you giggled. “let me unpack and get changed, i have been itching to get out of this dress for hours.”

“let me help you?”, marius followed you with your suitcases and immediately got to work with the zipper and buttons, pulling it down and the dress fell down to the ground, revealing your almost naked body that was only covered by some lacy panties.

“hey, out with you now!”, you giggled, throwing a pillow at him. “no peeking at the surprise! my bridesmaids got me this really hot lingerie and you can’t peek until we fuck.”

marius pouted like a kid being denied of his favorite snack as he caught the pillow with ease – in a way, the fact that he was denied of his favorite snack was accurate. especially considering he ate you out almost every morning because he simply enjoyed the way you trembled in his grasp from how good he made you feel and how much he enjoyed the way you tasted on his tongue.

“i’ll order us some food, yeah? you must be hungry”, he disappeared into the living room and you heard him talk shortly after.

immediately, you opened the suitcases and took out the set of lingerie and satin robe – your best friend had purchased and packed it into yours. it took you a little moment of gathering your confidence before you went out, smiling at marius as he was seated on the couch.

“did you order some food?”, you asked him and he nodded.

“mhm, i wonder what’s hidden underneath the robe”, marius chuckled, immediately pulling you into his arms as he tried to untie the robe.

“nuh-uh. not so fast. i’m still hungry”, you teased him, slapping his hands away. “after dinner, baby.”

“god, you’re such a fucking tease”, he groaned in frustration and leaned back. “at least let me hold you. i haven’t been able to cuddle with you in two weeks because your stupid bridesmaids forbade me to be with you because of that stupid bad luck hoax.”

“yeah… i missed you a lot, too. i really did. but hey, now we’re here and we got two whole weeks to catch up on that lost time, huh?”, you grinned, peppering kisses over his neck, melting into his arms as you simply enjoyed his presence.

“oh, fuck, yes we are. and believe me, we’ll be fucking quite a lot, too, so get ready for that, babe”, he smirked as he kissed you on the lips but depriving you of that simple pleasure by pulling away quickly after.

you pouted and he just laughed at how cute you were, kissing your temple again.

“don’t worry, we’ll get to do that more than you could wish for in our future together, hm?”

a couple of minutes later, the elevator door dinged and the delivery person arrived, leaving your food on the table. marius went ahead and gave the kid a generous tip, smiling gently as the kid wanted to refuse since it was quite a lot, but marius shut down any protests and the kid thanked him profusely and congratulated you both for your wedding before leaving.

it was obvious, the tabloids were having a field day with marius von hagen, the bachelor of his social standing, finally settling down and getting married.

once the food was ready to eat, you both dove in, you let out a groan at how good it all tasted and you giggled when you saw marius stare at you, the sound you let out was not one you usually let out outside of the bedroom.

“damn, you must have been starving, huh?”, marius laughed lightly and dove in himself.

you continued eating as you talked, chatted about everything before you started to clean up the leftovers and moved to the bedroom where marius finally untied the knot of your robe, gently pushing the silk fabric over your shoulders and revealing probably the hottest set of lingerie he ever had seen you wear. and this was all for him.

“fuck, baby, you’re so gorgeous”, he groaned, one hand on your cheek as he kissed you as the other slowly wandered down your body, before he snapped the clip of your bra open to let it fall down your body.

his lips quickly latched onto one of your nipples, as he played with the other with his fingers, pinching, squeezing and rolling his thumb over the sensitive nub. you let out a soft moan, hands buried in his hair as your eyes fluttered shut.

“ah, fuck, marius, please”, you whimpered; he slowly pushed you towards the massive bed as you laid down and he was on top of you immediately.

“you sound so sweet for me, baby. don’t worry, i’ll fuck you. i’ll fuck you so good your legs won’t stop shaking because of how good you feel and we’ll be covered in our mess”, he whispered, his voice soft and gentle but his actions were not.

he pulled your panties aside to expose your cunt, smiling as you were clenching around nothing when the cold air hit your needy pussy. “so needy and so fucking wet, all for me”, he mumbled before he pulled your panties off and threw the fabric away.

“you looked divine in that lingerie but my favorite will still be you naked underneath me, sweetheart”, he mumbled before he spread your legs with his hands, they were gripping your thighs so hard you were sure you would feel the grip tomorrow still.

“let me eat that pretty pussy of yours, hm? had me deprived of your taste for two weeks, let me remind you of how good i can eat you”, he groaned before he dove in, lips sucking on your clit as his flattened tongue licked up a stripe over your pussy, and then again and again.

“marius!”, you whimpered his name, a sob leaving your lips as you felt him tease you and edge you over and over, never continuing long enough to make you come for him. “please, don’t- don’t tease me.”

“oh, let me have my fun, sweetie, huh?”, he pouted innocently. “i deserve this after being forced into a dry spell for two whole weeks.”

“idiot”, you whimpered. “but okay, fuck, yes, you do.”

“exactly, good girl”, he giggled, kissing all over your thighs and getting back closer to your pussy. “you deserve to cum for that.”

before you could say anything else, his tongue was buried back in your folds as you moaned out loudly, he flattened his tongue once more and played with your clit as you thrashed around and with a loud whine you finally came, hips jerking up and you whined as his nose was right against your sensitive clit.

he laughed lightly as he forcefully spread your legs again as they had wrapped around his head when that orgasm hit you like a truck.

“keep those pretty legs spread, baby. need my snack, hm? haven’t tasted you in so long, i’m starving”, he groaned against your pussy before he spat on it and rubbed the mix of your cum and his spit with his thumb on your clit, smirking at how your hips twitched up and down again.

“marius, fuck, it’s– ah, it’s too much”, you whined, fingers buried in his hair as the overstimulation hit and you were shaking and trembling in his tight grasp, eyes shut as you cried out when he played around with your clit.

he slowly entered two fingers in your pussy, moving them in and out in a quick pace as you ended up coming once more, creaming around his fingers and you tried to catch your breath as he pulled his fingers out and crawled back on top of you after placing one last gentle kiss on your thigh.

“came so good for me, baby, god, i’m so proud of you”, he groaned softly, he laid down next to you before he pulled you on top of him, your lower body still covered by the panties that barely even covered anything.

you quickly pulled up his t-shirt, he helped you get it off his gorgeous body, before you leaned down again, wandering down his chest and abs with your lips, before you got to his pants and pulled it off alongside his boxers, his cock slapped against his stomach as you noticed the precum leaking from his angry red tip, smiling at how needy he had gotten for you.

“fuck, baby, you’re so hard”, you giggled, slowly wrapping his hand around your husband’s cock and teasingly and gently jerking him off. “you’re so adorable.”

“stop teasing me and let me fuck those pretty lips of yours, hm?”, marius groaned, hand on the back of your head as he pushed you closer to his cock and you nodded eagerly, wrapping your lips around his tip, taking him down your throat and gagging as you challenged your gag reflex. “such a good girl for me, fuuuck. taking your husband’s cock so good like the perfect wife you are, don’t you?”

he guided your head deeper down his cock, you spluttered as you took down more than you thought you could, spit was connecting your lips with his tip as you went back up to catch your breath. “come on, baby, make me cum. make your husband cum for you, all the way down your throat”, he urged you on, as you went down on him again, your tongue flattening over his length as you went back up.

it didn’t take long – he had been on the edge ever since he learned that he wasn’t going to be allowed to see you in the two weeks before the wedding. he was coming down your throat and whimpered your name over and over again, the soft giggle he let out as he was coming down from the haze of his orgasm had you smile softly, you placed a gentle kiss on his tip before you laid down on top of him again, kissing him as your hands buried into his hair.

“fuck, baby, you did so well”, he mumbled into the kiss, turning you both around again, that you were underneath him once more and he kissed you, the kiss starting out so gentle before it grew desperate, hungry.

“i need to fuck you, baby, god, i missed that pussy of yours so bad”, he grunted as he pulled the lacy panties down your legs. he had his cock in his hand, jerking off for a moment before he tapped your clit with his tip, smirking as you twitched from the previous overstimulation.

“please, i’m ready, baby, please, just fuck me”, you begged, arms around his shoulders and you waited for him so patiently, your eyes pretty much sparkling as you looked at him. “please?”

“fuck, you’re so sweet, baby”, he groaned, aligning his tip with your entrance and working his length inside, not full on slamming his cock inside like he would usually but slowly, inch by inch until he was buried deep inside. “feels so good to be back, baby, god, i missed that pussy of yours way too much.”

“i missed your cock, marius, baby”, you whined, burying your face into the crook of his neck, “and i missed you, so fucking much. two weeks apart of you was literal hell, please, don’t ever leave me for such a long time again.”

as he fucked you, keeping everything slow and romantic, with kisses over your face, lips and neck, you felt tears well up in your eyes from the overstimulation and the fact that you hadn’t seen him until you were standing in front of him in your wedding dress.

“oh, baby, are you crying?”, he gently mumbled, stopping his movements altogether for a moment as he watched your every single reaction carefully. “shh, don’t cry, baby, everything is okay, what’s wrong?”

“n-nothing”, you sniffled softly, your hand on his cheek as you looked into his gorgeous purple eyes. “i just missed you so, so much. being apart from you was just too much for me to handle and now you’re here, with me and i just.. fuck i’m just so in love with you, marius. i was feeling too much at once and everything just got too much.”

marius chuckled softly and you felt something wet drop onto your shoulder. “i feel the same, baby, i almost started sobbing earlier because i was just so happy. it was so crazy”, he mumbled.

everything was so incredibly emotional either of you forgot you had planned on fucking each other’s brains out for a moment.

“i love you, so much”, he mumbled, smiling against your jaw.

“i love you, too, baby”, you replied, finally remembering that he still was buried deep in your pussy and laughed at the current situation. you shook your head as you smiled at him softly and your lips parted as you felt him move slowly again, the grunts he let out with each thrust were like music to your ears.

“ah, fuck, marius, please!”, you whined nails scraping his back as you felt yourself get closer to the edge once more, the knot in your tummy so fucking close to snap. “don’t stop, please, don’t stop.”

his pace grew harder, faster and he grunted lowly before he let out a long groan, hips stilling as his orgasm hit him so intense that his own legs were shaking, he filled you up and made your tummy feel so warm. this simple thing triggered your own orgasm, having you cry out his name before you started to calm down, your body still shaking in the aftershocks.

“my pretty girl, you came so good for me, baby. took my cock so well”, he mumbled, kissing all over your face. you loved his praises, those dirty words coming out of his mouth and making you feel so giddy and happy.

“more”, you mumbled softly, almost so quiet that he didn’t hear you. but he did. he would always.

“more? can you handle more, baby?”, he asked with a smirk and genuine worry. he knew that you were sensitive, twitching at every single touch of his.

“mhm, i can”, you whispered, “i know i can. need you more.”

marius nodded before he resumed his thrusts, first slowly, testing the waters with how you reacted on the additional stimulation before he started going harder and faster, skin slapping against skin as he fucked you over and over, filling you with his cum once more.

“such a pretty doll for me, baby, so fucking pretty, come for me, make me proud and just make a mess of me, of us, huh?”, he egged you on. marius grabbed your legs as he pushed your legs up into a mating press, and you moaned loudly, letting out a sob as everything slowly became too much to handle.

“fuck, you’re so wet, baby”, he groaned, “so fucking easy to fuck you now, isn’t it? you like that, baby? like how i fuck you so hard your legs are trembling from the stimulation?”

“yes! ah, fuck, yes”, you cried out, as you creamed once more around him, sobbing as he once more stilled his hips deep inside of you, burying his seed so deep inside of you, before he pulled out, giggling in the post-orgasmic haze as he watched his cum drip out and making a mess of the sheets.

“you’re so fucking hot, baby, i can’t get enough of you”, he mumbled as he laid down next to you, pulling you into his arms and softly massaging your body as you both were so incredibly exhausted. “but let’s get you cleaned up first and sleep, huh? you look so exhausted, i don’t want to force you to more than you can handle”, he whispered softly before he rolled off the bed and grabbed you to carry you towards the bathroom where he turned on the shower.

he grabbed some soap and gently massaged the gel onto your skin, before he washed everything off, especially the cum that had started drying out on your thighs.

once you were both settled and dressed again, you cuddled, he was holding you from behind as you both slowly winded down and fell asleep in each others arms.

—

“wake up, babe”, you heard him mumbling into you ear as you stretched your body, smiling at him with a tired look in your eyes. “good morning, sweetheart.”

“good morning”, you mumbled back, enjoying the warmth of his body next to yours and the sun shining right into your face.

“did you sleep well after yesterday?”, marius chuckled lightly, planting a soft kiss on your cheek. “i didn’t go too rough on you, did i?”

“mh, no, don’t worry. i’m good”, you replied as you turned around in his arms. “it was perfect. you were perfect.”

once you both got up from the bed and got dressed – you simply put on one of his shirts because you were lazy for anything else – you went to the kitchen, putting on an apron and started putting some things together for breakfast. “hey, i could’ve ordered us something!”, marius protested when he stepped out of the shower and went into the kitchen as well, drying off his upper body.

“no, i can just cook something really quick, don’t worry. it’s fine”, you replied with a soft smile, kissing him gently. it was intended to be just a peck but… to be fair, when did one single kiss with marius stay just one single quick kiss?

the kiss quickly turned into something deeper, the passion and need you both felt for each other was not dealt with last night as you both were not only overstimulated but also exhausted from the last two weeks of wedding preparations and the ceremony plus reception.

“i should get back to making breakfast, don’t want it to burn”, you mumbled but couldn’t stop him at all, all defenses in your body melting by the second as he practically devoured you.

“i don’t care what you want to do, i’ll order you the best breakfast possible. just let me fuck you”, he groaned as he untied the knot of the apron and pulled it off your neck, before he lifted your – well, his – shirt up and pushed you against the counter. he quickly turned the stove off and put the pan aside so it wouldn’t burn down, before he had two of his fingers buried in your cunt, making you cry out at the sudden intrusion.

“a-ah! fuck”, you moaned, eyes fluttering shut as he looked down on you, watching those pretty expressions unfold on your face, lips parting into a little ‘o’ as you couldn’t bring out a sound anymore, he lifted one of your legs with his free hand and wrapped it around his waist as he held you tightly. his fingers were moving fast, the wet sounds were so embarrassing for you but you were so fucked out, you couldn’t remember what you were going to do.

“come for me, baby, take my fingers and come for me”, he groaned into your ear, curling his fingers as he hit your sweet spot as your body trembled and you creamed around his fingers.

marius smiled at your fucked out expression as you tried to calm down again, pulling his fingers out again before he licked them clean, letting out a grunt at how good you tasted.

“need to fuck you, baby”, he mumbled against your neck and he pulled down his shorts before he lifted you onto the kitchen counter and aligned his cock with your entrance.

once he was buried deep inside, there was nothing holding him back any longer. the difference to yesterday was, he was just straight up needy this morning. he fucked you like his life depended on it, rough, hard and relentless. the only goal in marius’ mind was to fuck his cum in you and get you pregnant with his heir.

“you like that, don’t you, baby?”, he moaned into you ear. “the thought of me fucking you until you get pregnant with my baby, our baby.”

you could only nod, your brain was fully empty ever since he had his dick back inside of you and you couldn’t help but cry out when you felt his cock repeatedly hit your sweet spot. nothing else mattered in that moment, not now.

you would think of the consequences later.

marius’ thrusts grew more and more erratic before he stilled, his cum deep in your core and he leaned his head against your shoulder as you hugged him, not caring that you didn’t reach your high. he just looked so vulnerable right now, nothing else mattered.

“fuck, i can’t get enough of you, baby”, he whispered. “don’t care how many times i say it, just need more and more of you. you’re my everything.”

and before you knew it, he was rubbing your clit with his thumb, proceeding to fuck his seed in your womb with his cock and having you cry out as you came and made a mess of everything as you squirted.

“such a good girl for me, baby”, he mumbled. “wanna go back to bed and let your husband fuck you again?”

the only reply you could give was a nod, smiling as he easily carried you off to bed again to make you feel like in heaven again.

hehe bonus visuals, the last two are not connected to the story tbh and just got added here because hot | x p.rn links

marius with you

marius eating you out

marius eating you out pt. 2

marius and his breeding kink :3

marius playing with you

marius using you :3

i‘m not going to apologize that i need to do this here, too, but it is the goal of mine to be spreading more awareness. educational / informative videos about 🍉 on tiktok. thank you for watching these, too.

link

#(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟmarius #tears of themis #tot #tears of themis smut #tot smut #marius von hagen #marius smut #marius von hagen smut

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